


The Quiet Life

by Weisse_Rose



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-20
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-05-21 11:41:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 37,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6050263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Weisse_Rose/pseuds/Weisse_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma & Killian return from New York, to find Storybrooke cursed, none of the residents remembering their true identities. As if that weren't bad enough, the townsfolk know them. As a married couple living in town with their son Henry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma is nervous. She isn't sure what exactly they are getting themselves into and she hates surprises. Is the town really back? Do the residents still remember who they are? By the time the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign pops up, she is prepared for the worst.

The second they cross the town line, she feels a strange sensation, like something tugging at her brain, scrambling through her memories. She panics and stops the car. She looks over at Hook who also seems to be fighting with some invisible force. She reaches out to him, the moment her fingertips touch his arm, she feels her magic flare up. There is a blinding white light and then there's nothing.

When Emma wakes up again, she is disoriented and her head is pounding painfully. She hears a groan from beside her and turns to see Hook slowly coming to his senses, holding his head as if in pain.

She quickly turns her head, ignoring the sudden stab of pain that pools behind her temples, and checks the back seat. Henry is still sleeping peacefully, just as he was before they entered the town limits. She's still feeling uneasy though, because she has no idea what just happened to them. She needs to make sure he's okay.

"Henry?", she calls out softly.

The boy opens his eyes dazedly, then smiles up at her. He yawns. "Are we there?"

Emma smiles back at him, relieved. "Almost."

She turns back to Hook, who is still rubbing his forehead with his right hand, his face a mask of pain. Apparently Henry follows her line of sight, focusing his attention on Hook as well.

"What's wrong, dad?"

"Nothing, it's just a headache ... " Hook stops short and turns around, a look of surprise on his face. "What did you say, lad?"

Henry grins at him. "What, you didn't get that? Aren't you the one who keeps telling me about _the importance of listening properly_?" He says the last couple of words in an eerily flawless imitation of Hook's accent, which sends a cold shiver down Emma's spine. Something is definitely wrong here.

Hook is utterly confused at this point. He looks back at Emma with such a helpless expression that it would be funny, under different circumstances.

She turns back to Henry, a worried look on her face.

"Henry, do you remember why we came here?"

He looks at her as if she's lost her mind. Maybe she has, who knows. "Um, because we're going home? Seriously, what's wrong with you guys?"

Emma and Hook exchange a look. Henry narrows his eyes. "What's going on here?"

Emma gives him a reassuring smile. "Nothing. Just messing with you, kiddo."

She starts the car again and continues the drive into town. She spares a glance to the side and meets Hook's eyes. He still looks completely confused. She gives him a silent warning. _Not now_. She doesn't want to worry Henry unnecessarily. Something messed with his memories when they crossed the town line. For some reason, she and Hook appear to be unaffected. A scary thought strikes her. _Is Hook unaffected?_. She quickly looks over again. He's lost in thought, his brows narrowed. It gives her hope. If he were affected like Henry, he'd probably think everything is normal.

Her gaze travels down to the steering wheel and she notices something strange on her left hand. Its's a ring, which definitely wasn't there before. She stares at it in shock for a moment, until the car swerves slightly and she puts her attention back on the road. Hook looks over, clearly trying to figure out what's going on, until his gaze gets stuck on her hand. Emma refuses to meet his eyes. This is not happening.

"Um, where are we going?"

Henry's question draws her out of her thoughts. 

"Huh?"

"You just missed the left turn into Regent street."

"Huh?"

Henry rolls his eyes. "I thought we were going straight home?"

 _Shit_. Emma doesn't have the faintest clue where that could possibly be. Maybe her parent's place? She decides to stall for more time.

"I thought we could go to Granny's first. I'm starving."

Henry makes a non-committal sound and turns his attention back to his phone. Emma swallows. Crisis averted. For now.

She pulls up in front of Granny's with a bad feeling. Something is not right in Storybrooke. She can feel it. They get out of the car slowly, stretching their limbs. Henry immediately walks into the diner, his attention still on his phone. The moment he's inside, Hook turns to her, a worried expression on his face.

"What the hell just happened?"

Emma just shrugs helplessly. "It seems this curse influences people entering the town as well."

"Why did it affect the lad while we remained our same old dashing selves?"

"I have no idea, Hook. Look, I think for now it's best to just play along. I don't want to scare Henry. We'll find some way to get his memories back."

Hook nods. "Would be helpful to know what, exactly, we are playing along _with_."

"Well, he seems to think we live in Storybrooke and you're his father. Let's just go with that."

A strange expression crosses Hook's face, but it's gone too quickly for Emma to identify. He nods again and they enter the diner together.


	2. Chapter 2

Emma enters the diner, still feeling uneasy, waiting for things to come crashing down over their heads, as they are bound to do, sooner or later.

She breathes a sigh of relief when she spots David and Mary Margaret sitting in a booth. Without thinking, she walks up to them. When she stops in front of their table, she suddenly realizes that they might not even recognize her. Well, it's too late to turn back now. Thankfully, Mary Margaret turns around and smiles at her.

"Emma! Good to see you're back. How was your trip?"

For a split second, Emma is overwhelmed by relief, until she recognizes something weird in Mary Margaret's tone. It's casual, like she's addressing a friend. The hope she felt only a second ago crumbles to bits. She stares at the two of them, swallowing around a newly-formed lump in her throat. Hook comes to her rescue, walking up next to her. David breaks into a huge grin when he sees him.

"Killian! Thank God you're back! Wanna meet up tonight? I recorded all the games while you were gone."

Mary Margaret gives him a slap on the arm. "Will you let the two of them arrive before you drag him back into your sports obsession?

David looks chagrined, but apparently is not to be deterred. "Tomorrow night, then?", he asks, his voice hopeful.

Hook looks at him with a dumbfounded expression. "Um, sure, mate."

"Great." David looks down at Hook's attire, his eyes narrowing. "Dude, what's with the outfit?" 

"Cosplay", Emma non-explains and gently shoves Hook away from her parents' table. 

Henry waves from the corner booth, trying to get their attention. While they walk over, Hook leans in and whispers, "What just happened?" Emma just shrugs, still processing the fact that her parents have once again lost their memories. 

When they sit down, Henry narrows his eyes and Emma knows he's getting suspicious. And she still doesn't have the faintest idea where they live. Why does everything always have to be so complicated? New York may have been a lie, but at least things were simple there. Straightforward. Her real life is always so messy.

She orders a hot chocolate with cinnamon and plans her next move. How can she ask Henry for their address without looking like she's lost her mind? She has a sudden inspiration, which borders on full-blown insanity. It's such a long shot that she actually doesn't have any real hope of it succeeding. She takes out her phone and looks at the saved locations on her map app. And there it is. Home. Just like that. _How can an effing curse add information on my phone?"_ Emma feels a hysterical giggle threatening to spill out of her and barely manages to contain it. 

After they've finished their drinks, they pile back into the car, waving to David and Mary Margaret on the way out.

"I thought you were hungry." Henry's voice is neutral.

"Sorry?"

"You wanted to stop by Granny's because you were hungry and than you just had a hot chocolate." He raises one eyebrow, saying, without words, _I know something is up, and I'm gonna find out what it is._

Damn him and his superhuman perceptiveness. Where did he get that from anyway? 

"I wasn't hungry after all", she mumbles, clearly not convincing anybody.

She uses her phone to find the way home, trying not to let Henry see that she needs a guide to their own place. 

When they reach the house, she stops in the street instead of pulling into the driveway, because this simply cannot be the right address. The house is beautiful, a dream in blue and white, with an amazing front porch. And a white picket fence, for God's sake. 

Henry is looking at her again and she quickly pulls into the driveway. They get out of the car again, Hook and Henry grabbing the luggage from the small compartment. It's almost getting dark now. Emma approaches the front door carefully. There are three big numbers on the door, seven one zero. Emma panics when she realizes that she doesn't have a key to this place. Taking another long shot, she reaches into her pocket. And just like the address in her phone, a set of house keys has magically appeared in her pocket. She's never gonna get used to this. 

She tries very hard not to stare at them too long. Instead she tries the one she hopes is the key to the front door. Turns out it isn't. She glances over at Henry who is engrossed in his phone. Or pretends to be engrossed in his phone. She quickly tries the next key and thankfully this one fits.

She enters, then stops short. The place is just as beautiful on the inside, a big open space, with a great kitchen and a nice corner table. Everything, the furniture, the decoration, it's all unknown to her and yet it is strangely familiar. If she imagines herself decorating a house, this is what it would look like. There's a stairway leading up and a locked door to what she assumes must be the basement. 

Henry walks right up the stairs, taking his bag with him. The second he's out of sight, Emma crumbles into one of the chairs, putting her head in her hands.

"Why couldn't things have been simple for once?", she mumbles through her hands. 

When there's no reply, she lifts her head, to see Hook inspecting the place. The centre piece of the living room is a large painting of a beautiful ship sailing into the sunset. Hook is looking at it with a strange expression on his face, almost like yearning. She thinks he probably just wants to be back on his ship, and do some pillaging and plundering or whatever it is he used to do in the old days. 

Emma sighs and gets up. Never a boring day in her life. Well, in her real life, that is. She walks up the stairs, Hook following close behind. The house is huge. Besides Henry's room, which thankfully has an adorable sign with his name on the door, sparing them the awkwardness of having to explain to Henry why they are exploring their own damn house, they find two bathrooms, the master bedroom and an additional guest bedroom.

Emma looks at the massive bed in the master bedroom, worrying her bottom lip. She turns to say something to Hook and realizes he's not there. It's a little creepy how quickly she got used to him following her around everywhere. She goes to look for him and finds him in the guest bedroom, putting his long coat down on the chair in the corner.

"What are you doing?"

"I thought it best for me to take this chamber and leave the master bedroom to you, Swan. Unless you want me to join you in the bed?" He wiggles his eyebrows at her suggestively.

Emma bites her lip again, then meets his eyes. "Actually, yes."

She's captivated for a moment by the different expressions flashing over his face, before he settles back into flirting mode. "I knew you'd come around sooner or later. I've been told I'm hard to resist."

She gives him a look. "Not like that. I just think it's best if we don't draw any attention to us while we're trying to figure out what's going on. So it's best if we act like we are under the curse like everybody else."

"You want to pretend to be married?" The flirtatious tone is gone now, actual shock shining through his words.

"Don't you think that's the best course of action?"

He's quiet for a moment, clearly mulling this over. Emma is surprised at his hesitation, she would have thought he'd jump at the idea of pretending to be together. Maybe he's just not into playing house.

After a moment, he nods. "Yes, it's probably best if we don't show our hand yet by making it public knowledge that we are somebody else than who we appear to be. But I don't think that requires us to share a bed."

Emma feels a weird stab of hurt at his words, which doesn't make any sense. It's not like she wants him in her bed. It's just for Henry's sake.

"I don't want Henry to get worried. He's already suspicious. If you sleep in the guest bedroom, he'll think our marriage is in trouble. I don't want him to have to go through that."

She looks at him questioningly and he sighs, then nods his agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Killian takes a deep breath and valiantly tries to stop being angry at himself. He _knew_ this was a bad idea. He _knew_ he would spend a sleepless night, hell, many sleepless nights because of it. He _knew_ he should have said no. But when she looked at him, with that questioning, almost pleading expression in her eyes, he just couldn't. He never could say no to her. There's the main problem with his life summarized in one sentence, he thinks, frustrated.

It's also the reason why he is awake in the middle of the night, lying on the far corner of the bed, his back turned to the source of his sleeplessness. She is far enough away that he cannot really feel her presence, but just knowing that she's there, within arm's reach, is driving him mad. He can hear her breathing. Sometimes she starts to snore softly, then stops abruptly when she turns around. She's quite a restless sleeper, as it turns out.

He's debating with himself whether to turn around or just stay where he is. The soft light coming in through the blinds is barely enough to see anything anyway. He knows he shouldn't, knows it will make it just that much worse but he turns around anyway. He was always quite the expert at torturing himself. 

She's turned to him and he can't breathe for a moment, because she just looks stunning in her sleep. The worry that seems to be etched into her features permanently is gone, her expression relaxed, peaceful.

He wants to reach out and touch her face. He wants to draw his hand through her hair and feel the softness of the golden mess. He wants to wake her up and kiss her senseless. He wants to hold her to him and never let her go. He wants to tell her how he feels and hear her say the words back to him. He wants, wants, _wants_ , with such an intensity that it scares him.

He turns around again, and tries to get his tumbling thoughts back under control. He's such an idiot. And to think that he believed the last year to be torture. Lying awake at night, alone in his bunk, thinking about her, wondering what her new life might be like. This is so much worse. To know that she is there, but still to be unable to touch her. He realizes with a start that his hand is clenching and unclenching into a fist, and he stops the movement and takes a deep breath. 

He shuts his eyes tight and tries to think of something else, anything else. He pictures the calm waters of the ocean at peace. The smell of the sea after a storm. In his mind's eye, he sees the Jolly Roger and it brings him right back to the present. 

He sits up in bed and leans against the headboard, frustrated and angry with himself. No sense in pretending he will catch any sleep tonight.

He's debating whether or not to get up when he hears soft footsteps approaching the door. He tenses and reaches for the bedside table, where his hook should be, but of course it's only the damn fake hand he's been wearing ever since he came back to this land. His hook is safely hidden away in one of the many pockets of his coat.

The door opens slowly and he hears a small voice calling out to him. 

"Dad?"

He gets up quickly, tries not to wake Emma in the process and takes Henry back to the hallway with him, closing the door very carefully behind him. He kneels in front of the boy, putting his hand on his shoulder.

"Everything okay, lad?"

Henry looks a bit sheepish, like he doesn't want to admit what's bothering him. 

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just had a bad dream and I couldn't sleep. I know I'm not a kid anymore and I didn't want to disturb you, but it was really scary and it just seemed so _real_ and I couldn't sleep."

Killian squeezes his shoulder reassuringly.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Henry nods hesitantly and the two of them make their way downstairs to the kitchen. Killian grabs a glass from the cupboard, grateful that he remembered the location from the previous night, when he and Emma roamed around, trying to get familiar with the place. Their place.

He fills the glass with water and hands it to Henry, sitting down next to him at the kitchen table.

"So, tell me about your dream."

Henry narrows his eyes, struggling to remember the details. "It was really, really weird. There were all kinds of fairytale characters like dwarfs and fairies. And an evil queen. But she wasn't really evil, just kind of misunderstood. And she was also my mother. But it wasn't mom. And you had a hook for a hand instead of your prosthetic. But all of that wasn't the scary part."

Killian waits, but Henry doesn't go on. He is just about to say something when the boy continues after all, his voice small and scared.

"Remember when you told me the story of the emperor who dreamed he was a butterfly and then he wasn't sure anymore if he wasn't actually a butterfly dreaming to be an emperor?"

Killian doesn't have the faintest idea what in the seven realms the boy is talking about, but he nods anyway.

"It was like that. I woke up and it felt like my life, this, was a dream and nothing was real." 

Killian can tell that Henry is close to tears, the experience clearly frightened him. 

Suddenly, the boy jumps up from his chair and embraces him. Killian is too surprised to react at first, but then he draws his arms around him and returns the hug. He feels his shirt getting damp, Henry is crying into his shoulder.

After a while, Henry pulls back, still sniffling. Killian ruffles up his hair fondly.

"Always remember that I love you, no matter if you're an emperor or a butterfly." 

He's not sure where that came from, exactly, it's not really his place to be saying something like that to Henry. Still, he feels an undeniable connection to the boy. He's Emma's son, after all. Milah's grandson. God, when did his life become so complicated? 

He just wants Henry to be happy. More than anything, he wants this thing between them to be real, instead of a bloody curse. 

He catches himself wishing, not for the first time, that the curse had wiped his memory as well as Henry's when they crossed the town line. That maybe he could have been granted a week, hell, even just a day, of thinking this is his life.

Henry smiles up at him. "Thanks, dad."

Then he walks back up the stairs, treading carefully on some steps as if he knows exactly which ones will make a noise when stepped on. 

Killian looks after him for a long times, his heart filled with a longing he thought he'd buried for good centuries ago.

The early hours of the morning are dawning already by the time he finally makes his way back to the master bedroom.


	4. Chapter 4

Killian wakes slowly, feeling disoriented. Soft noises are drifting up from downstairs, something is clattering in the kitchen. It's probable what drew him out of his slumber. He was always a light sleeper for as long as he can remember.

He blinks and suddenly he's aware of a warm body pressed against his back and he's fully awake in an instant.

There's an arm draped over him as well and he turns his head slightly to look down at it in disbelief.

Emma Swan, Emma _fucking_ Swan, master of At Arm's Length and The Cold Shoulder, is snuggled up to him head to toe, fast asleep. He can feel her breath in small puffs against his neck. He can feel the warmth seeping into his skin everywhere they touch and it's _delicious_. 

He dares not move, dares not _breathe_ lest he wake her up. He closes his eyes again and imagines how it would feel if this were real, if he woke up in the morning with Emma cuddling up to him, if she held him close because she _wanted_ to, because she wanted this as much as he does. 

He's pretty sure he can feel an actual physical ache in his chest and _God_ what was he even thinking when he agreed to this? 

He dreads what's going to happen next. She's going to wake up and realize what she's doing and she's going to run, fast and far away. Well, as far away as their current predicament allows, but still. And maybe that would be for the best, even. End this torture right now.

Or he could try to sneak away before she wakes up. Which would mean untangling himself from her embrace and he's not sure he's up to that challenge quite yet. In spite of everything, it feels nice. He tries not to read too much into the fact that at least in sleep her walls were down enough to let this happen, even though she was sharing a bed with him. Tries and fails. 

He tries to remember the last time he woke up like this and he fails at that task as well. There had been women, of course there had been women, but he can't remember waking up like this, not since Milah.

He takes a deep breath and calms himself. This is ridiculous. You're behaving like a bloody youth with a crush. _Get it together, Hook._ You're a bloody pirate. You may not have a ship right at this moment, but you're still a pirate, you're definitely not some love-struck puppy begging for every scrape of attention from ... his train of thought derails and burns as Emma's hand starts to draw slow circles over his stomach.

His breathing stops completely and he listens very carefully. Emma's breathing is even and there is no sign that she is awake. He realizes that he probably should have worn a shirt. But no, he's only wearing these ridiculous so-called sweat pants Emma uncovered in one of the cupboards. 

She shifts a little behind him and hums in his ear. Killian freezes and braces himself for what's going to happen next. He turns slightly towards her, because he needs to _see_ , because he's not only the expert, but the bloody _king_ of torturing yourself.

She opens her eyes halfway and murmurs "Mornin'", then her eyes widen in shock and she draws back so fast she nearly stumbles out of the bed on the other side. It's almost comical, in a different situation, a different life, but all he can feel is a gaping hole in his chest, with more and more of himself crumbling into the abyss.

She stares at him in disbelief and he would love to make some saucy remark to lighten the mood but his tongue is stuck in his mouth and he couldn't make a sound if his life depended on it.

They stare at each other, neither making a move. They are saved from further awkwardness by loud footsteps pounding up the stairs in a hurry. He can see Emma compose herself a second before the door bursts open and tries to do the same.

"Good morning! I made breakfast! Check it out!" 

Henry takes in their state, sitting apart on the bed. 

"What were you guys doing?" He grimaces. "Ugh, never mind, I don't wanna know. I'll knock next time." And with that he's back out the door, running down the stairs.

Emma gets up and follows Henry out without sparing him another look and that's quite fine with him. He gets up slowly, not in any hurry to come face to face with Emma again any time soon. Instead of walking downstairs, he opens the huge closet which is half-filled with strange garments from this realm that supposedly fit him. He crosses his arms and carefully considers his options.

* * *

Emma is so lost in thought that she misses most of what Henry says to her. 

"... and pancakes!"

"Huh? Sorry, I was somewhere else."

Henry gives her that suspicious look again, the one she's quite familiar with by now. Emma takes in the breakfast table for the first time and is blown away by the effort Henry put into it. There's freshly pressed orange juice, cereal, pancakes, scrambled eggs, _everything_.

"Whoa. What's all this for?"

If possible, the look on Henry's face intensifies and Emma silently curses herself.

"Um, because I always make you breakfast on your wedding anniversary?" His brow furrows. "You _forgot_?"

Emma tries to collect her thoughts quickly. She's really not up for this conversation right after what just happened - no, she's not even thinking about that.

"Of course I didn't forget. I just wanted to say that you made a really big effort and I'm very grateful." 

She steps up to him, ruffles up his hair and kisses his forehead. Henry seems mollified for the moment.

"What's taking dad so long? I'm hungry."

Emma shrugs her shoulders in reply. Actually, she's grateful that Hook is taking his time, she needs a moment away from him to order her thoughts. What in the world had she been doing? Had she honestly woken up this morning _cuddling_ with _Captain Hook_? How did that even happen? She wasn't a cuddler to begin with. And she'd made sure to keep as much distance between them as possible when she'd gone to sleep.

"DAD!" Henry yells from the bottom of the stairs, bringing her back to the present with a jolt.

"In a moment! And don't yell!"

"You're yelling as well!" Henry points out, still yelling.

Emma cannot help but smile. It's so weird, this thing they stumbled into. She thought she had a normal life in New York. Looking back on it now, she wonders if there wasn't always something off about Walsh and she just chose to ignore it, because she wanted things to work out so badly, for her sake and for Henry's sake. Wanted him to have this, a nice house, a normal life, a _family_.

"Look at this feast", Hook says behind her and she thinks she can hear a note of pride in his voice. He sounds absolutely sincere and she wonders briefly how he managed to get into this act so quickly. She turns around and - _Oh God_. He's wearing a dark blue button-down shirt and black jeans with a small black belt. His hair is all messed up and he is simply _stunning_. He looks much younger without the eyeliner. He smirks at her and she realizes that her mouth is hanging slightly open, so she closes it with a snap. His smirk widens. _Damn him_.

Henry sits down and digs in, and after a second's hesitation they join him. The atmosphere is charged, there is clearly a tension between her and Hook. She wonders if Henry picks up on it as well.

"So, what are your plans for tonight?"

Hook looks like he is about to ask Henry for clarification, so Emma just blurts out the first thing on her mind. 

"Nothing special, just going out for dinner."

Hook's eyebrows shoot up and she gives him a look. _Just go with it_.

"Hm", Henry comments, focussed on his pancakes, which are covered in an impressive amount of syrup. They actually turned out quite good.

Suddenly, a thought strikes Emma. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Henry rolls his eyes. "Not for another 10 minutes. Plenty of time."

"I'll take you."

"Nah, I can take my bike. You enjoy your breakfast." He hastily finishes his pancake, then he runs up the stairs again.

"Your lad has unlimited amounts of energy", Hook says fondly.

Emma narrows her eyes. "No need to act when he's not around."

Hook looks at her, bewildered. "What do you mean, love?"

She doesn't get a chance to reply, because Henry comes pounding down the stairs again, backpack slung over one shoulder. Emma gives him a quick goodbye kiss.

"Thanks for this, kiddo. Have a great day at school."

He gives Hook a quick smile and then he's out the door. Emma smiles after him for a moment until she realizes that now she's alone with Hook.

"What was all that about?"

Emma's heart skips a beat until she realizes that he's talking about their breakfast conversation and not about what transpired earlier that morning. Not that there is anything to talk about.

"It appears that today is our wedding anniversary."

"Which one?"

"What?"

"How many years have we been married?"

Emma gives him a bewildered look. 

"Who knows? What does it matter? We need to figure out this curse. Clearly it doesn't work like the last one."

Emma has another sudden realization.

"Oh God. I probably have a job." She looks at Hook in horror. "You probably have a job. What do we do?"

"I will hazard a guess and say that you might be the lawkeeper, love."

"What if I'm not? I can't just show up at the sheriff's station."

"Hm. Shouldn't you have an emblem? And a firearm? These things must be around here somewhere."

"Okay. Let's search the place. Maybe we can find a clue as to what you do as well."

They separate, Emma starting upstairs, Hook searching the living area and kitchen.

After a thorough search which turned up zilch in terms of what their professions could possibly be, Emma makes her way back down, still recovering from what she found in one of the bedside drawers. Apparently, their cursed married versions have quite the interesting sex life. She takes a deep breath and tries to shut out the pictures that come unbidden to her mind.

She finds Hook sitting in front of the big cupboard in the living room, photo albums strewn around him. She can sense that something is off, it's something in his posture, the way he's staring down at the album in his hand.

"Hook?"

He jolts visibly at her voice and quickly wipes with his sleeve at his eyes. Emma stops dead in her tracks. Was he _crying_?

She walks up to him and he tries to close the album he's holding, but she's quicker and grabs his wrist, stopping him. The page is filled with pictures of a new-born baby. There is one picture in particular that draws her attention. It's of Hook holding the tiny infant. The baby's eyes are wide open and he's looking directly at him. Hook is looking back awestruck, with pure joy and pride in his eyes. It's a breathtakingly beautiful picture.

Hook closes the book with a snap, withdrawing his wrist from her grasp.

"I found some small paintings showing you at the lawkeeper's office, so I will claim victory on that front." 

His voice is almost even, but she can detect the slight tremor in his words.

"Photographs. Or just pictures."

He meets her eyes then and even though his walls are back up, she is blown away by the barely concealed whirlwind of emotions in his features.

She just looks at him, too stunned to speak for a moment. Then she pulls herself together and stands up quickly.

"Right. I better go then."

She grabs her purse and coat and she's definitely not fleeing out the door, she's just in a hurry because she's probably late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to clarify, in Emma's POV he's still Hook, whereas in his own POV he's Killian. I hope this is not too confusing.
> 
> Thanks for all your encouragement, it makes me very happy (and productive), so please keep it coming!


	5. Chapter 5

Killian looks down at the closed book in his lap, filled with indecision. He knows he should just let it be, it already caused Emma to flee the premises. No good can come of looking at it any further. The image of him holding the small infant is burned into his memory anyway, he doesn't think he'll be able to forget it any time soon. For the life of him, he cannot think back to a time when he was as happy as the man in that image. If he ever was, the memory is lost to him.

His hand hovers over the small book, itching to open it again, to see more of these memories that never were and never can be. His struggle is interrupted by the sudden onslaught of music coming from upstairs. He jolts, then quickly puts the book aside and goes to investigate. The noise is coming from his coat. He finds one of the talking phones in one of his breast pockets. He definitely did not put it there. He likes the melody it produces, though he cannot identify it. 

He looks at the device to see if it will let him know who is attempting to talk to him. The name written on it is 'David', accompanied by a smiling image of Emma's father. He puts his index finger on the little green thing, like Emma had shown him.

"Hello?"

"Hey Killian. How you doin' ?"

Just like in the restaurant, he is surprised once more by the familiarity in David's tone, as if they are best mates in this strange new world.

"Fine." 

"Listen, I was thinking we could meet around six?"

"Sorry?"

"You know, to watch the games? I've been staying away from all the sports channels, avoiding spoilers. The things I do for you, man."

And there it is again. A deep affection shining through his words. Killian wonders what they are to each other in this world. Have they been friends for a long time?

"Ah, yeah, about that. I'm afraid I cannot make it tonight."

He feels weird standing alone in an empty house, talking to the air. He would much prefer to actually see the person he's talking to.

"C'mon, don't leave me hanging, bro. The anticipation is killing me here."

Bro? What in the world does that even mean? The way David emphasizes the word makes him suspect that it's part of some inside joke he's no longer privy to.

"I'm sorry. When I agreed to meet yesterday I neglected to take into consideration that today is my wedding anniversary."

There is a pause and Killian wonders if maybe the strange device has stopped working.

"How much trouble are you in?"

"Sorry?"

Killian is having trouble following this conversation with a man who appears to know him very well, whereas he knows short to nothing about him.

"Did Emma take your head off?"

"I - what? - no."

"You're saying she was fine with you forgetting the date of your wedding? I highly doubt that."

 _Ah_.

"I didn't forget. I temporarily misplaced the memory."

David laughs and Killian is again taken aback by the open and friendly, almost _brotherly_ way, he talks to him.

"Whatever you say, man. How about we reschedule to Friday?"

Killian doesn't have the faintest idea what day of the week it is, but there must be a way to find out such a trivial piece of information before Friday.

"Sure."

There is another long pause.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

David's tone is carefully neutral and Killian realizes that he must have noticed something off about his behaviour. 

"Yeah, sure."

"Okay, see you Friday then."

"Bye."

He stares at the device for a long moment. He reminds himself that this is not the same David. This man knows him very well. He'll have to be very careful around him in order not to slip up. It might be best not to meet him at all, but that would probably raise suspicion on David's part. 

He resolves to find a way to break this curse as soon as possible. It's way too easy, slipping into this act, enjoying his relationship with Henry, his easy friendship with David, getting to be close to Emma. He knows it can't last and he's only setting himself up for heartache. Better to make a quick end of it.

* * *

Emma sits down behind the steering wheel and takes a deep breath. That was unsettling, to say the least. Seeing Hook so uncharacteristically _normal_. It's easy to see him as a swashbuckling pirate, a fairy tale character. But the man she'd just left behind at the house (she is most definitely not starting to think of it as _their_ house) is nothing like that. He is too _real_. An actual human being. With feelings. Of course, he'd always been that, but she'd never before been confronted with the fact so directly. And the reaction he'd shown to that picture- no, better not dwell on that. She needs to focus on breaking this curse, everything else is a distraction.

She realizes that she left her red jacket in the car when they arrived the day before. She was probably too distracted by everything else that was happening. She picks it up and searches the pockets. She finds the badge she was looking for, but is surprised to see that it's a deputy's badge. Interesting. This just leaves her with the not so small question of where the hell her gun is. She opens the glove box, not really expecting to find anything, as she is sure that she would never leave a firearm lying around like that. 

She is surprised to find a small black box with a number lock which definitely wasn't there before. It's about the right size to contain her standard-issue weapon. Well, this is at least a secure way of storing it. So secure, in fact, that she has no idea how to get to it. She tries some of the obvious combinations, her birthday, Henry's birthday, the pin of her bank card. No luck. She sighs and puts the box back.

She arrives at the station without incident. When she enters, she is relieved to see David there. He turns around to face her and is just hanging up the phone. He gives her a strange look, she assumes because she's late. She's about to apologize, but he's quicker. 

"How you doin'?"

It sounds like a casual question, but if she's anything, Emma is an expert at reading people and David is definitely doing more than just greeting his deputy. _Shit_. Is he already suspecting something?

"Great. Sorry I'm late. Henry made us breakfast for our wedding anniversary and I forgot the time." Also, I had to figure out what I do for a living.

David nods, but continues to regard her suspiciously. Damn this town full of suspicious people.

"Big plans?"

"Nah, just going out for dinner." With Captain Hook. How did this even happen? She left New York to help break another curse, but she never envisioned that that could entail going on a date with Captain Hook. Her treacherous mind takes her back to that memorable moment in Neverland, when her control had slipped away from her for an instant- she shuts that train of thought down with force. They are simply keeping up appearances until they get to the bottom of this. That's all there is to it.

She sighs. She's not looking forward to a day with David, pretending to be somebody else. She wishes she could talk to the real David, get his opinion and advice, but alas that is not going to happen in the near future. When it comes to breaking this curse, she's on her own. Well, she and Hook are on their own.


	6. Chapter 6

Emma looks at the menu without taking in a single word. She is too focussed on not staring at Hook. He has upgraded his earlier outfit with a black vest, which, being a simple vest and all, has absolutely no right to look this _sexy_. She has to admit that he does clean up nicely. Although that's not quite true, even in his pirate garb he is always impeccable, not a single hair out of place. 

"Would you like some wine, love?"

And the way he keeps saying that word in that damn accent of his should be downright illegal. Get a grip on yourself, woman, she thinks, appalled at how easily she let herself be distracted by him.

"No, thanks." 

Alcohol is out of the question. She still has to drive them home anyway.

She put off going on this date for as long as humanly possible, even doing some of the paperwork piling up on her desk. Paperwork seemed to be the one thing transcending all versions of reality, always available in abundance. But at some point David started giving her curious glances and she had to admit defeat and go home. And then on to this date.

Hook picked the restaurant, arguing that she had no clue how to plan a proper night out. She started to protest until she realized that he might have a point. She wondered briefly how he found the place anyway, seeing as he doesn't know the first thing about the internet. The car ride was surprisingly awkward, a strange tension in the air between them. 

She really isn't looking forward to this evening. She sighs and puts the menu down again.

"We need a plan."

Hook seems startled by the sudden change in conversation, then he nods.

"Aye."

"Let's start with the message you received. What exactly did it entail?"

"It just said that a new curse had been cast and to get you as your parents were in great danger."

Emma's eyes narrow in concentration. "Not much to go on."

"Whoever sent it must have intended to lure us into the curse as well. I've given it some thought and I'm relatively certain we were being affected by the curse when we crossed the town line. But then something stopped it, something helped us retain our memories."

Emma starts chewing her bottom lip, deep in thought. "Yeah, I've been thinking about that as well. When it happened it felt as if something in me resisted. Like my magic was trying to protect me. When I reached for you, it must have done the same for you. I know it sounds far-fetched, but that's the only theory I've got."

Hook smirks. "I've heard far less believable tales in my day. Do you think the person who cast the curse is in town?"

Emma is surprised that she hasn't thought about this herself, it's such an obvious assumption. "Could be."

"So, we find the person who cast it, we find out why they cast it and hopefully we find a way to break it in the process." He looks at the menu as if he's done with this topic, then he looks back at her. "Now, can we at least try to have an enjoyable evening?"

She raises an eyebrow at him. "Well, I suppose I can _pretend_ to have an enjoyable evening, seeing as it's our anniversary."

He lifts his hand in mock surrender. "I'll take it."

Emma cannot quite leave it alone just yet, though. "Do you think we were part of the curse from the beginning? Like the house with all the stuff was already there? Or did that appear the moment we entered town?"

Hook furrows his brow. "It seems to me the most logical assumption that it appeared once we did. It could be that this curse has a way of protecting itself by incorporating any soul who enters Storybrooke."

"I guess."

"Great. Now, can we order something? I'm starving."

"Well, excuse me for trying to figure out the thing we're supposed to be working on."

Hook sighs, then waves to the waiter and orders. Emma realizes that she still has no idea what's on the menu. She picks it up again and orders the first thing she sees.

"What's the hurry, love?"

"With breaking the curse? Well, for one, somebody did this for a reason and I'm sure they're up to no good. Secondly, I highly doubt we'll be able to hold up this charade for long. One of us is bound to slip up sooner or later." There is a pause, then she adds, with something akin to dread in her voice. "Plus, we need to break the curse before next week Wednesday."

Hook raises an eyebrow in that infuriating way of his. 

"Well, that's oddly specific."

Emma fidgets in her chair. The prospect of what happens if they don't break the curse by next week Wednesday is so horrendous that she doesn't even want to think about it.

"It appears, from what I gathered on my day with David, that we and my parents have a long-standing tradition of a _couples night_ every two weeks."

The way she says the word suggests that it might be some terrible disease for which no cure has been found yet.

Hook laughs. "Ah, Swan, I'm sure it is not as horrendous as you make it sound."

Emma looks at him with fear in her eyes. "We probably play games. Like charades. Or Taboo. Oh God. I cannot go on what amounts to a double date with _my parents_."

"Aye, if you phrase it like that it does sound a bit disconcerting."

Emma nods, her eyes still wide with fear. Hook look at her, then breaks out in a grin.

"It's not funny! This could traumatize me for life!" She might be overreacting a tiny bit, but _c'mon_. A double date with her parents. She shudders.

He lifts up his arms in a defensive gesture. "You have to admit it's a little funny."

"I have to admit no such thing." She is practically pouting at this point and she knows it.

Hook looks at her and the expression on his face changes into something much like fondness and she really cannot deal with this right now on top of everything else. Something must have shown on her face, because he clears his throat and quickly turns away, retrieving a plastic bag he'd stored under the table.

She looks at it in horror. "You got me a present? I didn't get you a present. You are aware that this is a _fake_ anniversary and-"

"Relax, Swan, I didn't get you a present. After you left this morning, I merely discovered my chosen profession in this life and I wanted to show you." 

He produces a book from the bag and hands it to her. Emma looks it over curiously. Her eyes widen when she spots the author's name. _Killian Jones_. She turns it over and reads the blurb. It's an adventure story. The main character is a twelve-year old boy, who realizes that fairy tale characters are real and hiding in the modern world. _You have got to be kidding me_ , she thinks.

She opens the book on a random page and reads a few paragraphs. It's actually quite good. She can easily emphasize with the hero.

"Swan?" She looks up and is met with a smug-looking Hook. She might have gotten a bit more engrossed in what she was reading than she had intended. Still, he shouldn't be looking smug, it's not like _he_ actually wrote it.

She drops the book on the table and scoffs.

"Please. This is ridiculous. As if you could be an author."

Hook looks hurt for a split-second, then his expression turns carefully neutral.

"I'll have you know that many a woman has told me that I have a way with words."

Emma still hears the hurt in his voice and wishes she could take back her careless words. She tries to make up for it by picking up the book again and opening it.

 _To my son, Henry. Never stop believing._ , she reads on the first page.

She takes a deep breath. This damn curse is just an emotional roller-coaster.

She clears her throat. "Where did you find this, anyway?"

"Remember the big book shelf in the guest bed room? It was there. Along with the other four best-selling novels I wrote." His voice has taken on that smug note again, and for once she's glad to hear it. "It also appears that I dedicated a book to your father. Who apparently is an inspiration to me."

"You're kidding."

"I wish I was."

"Wait, how can you be a best-selling novelist? Wouldn't people outside of Storybrooke have to know you?"

"You keep asking me these questions, love. I'm no expert on curses. Maybe we should talk to the Evil Queen."

Emma grabs her phone and googles him. Her eyes widen in shock. _Once upon a time in Maine_ by Killian Jones. Available on Amazon.

"How can you possibly be on _Amazon_? What the hell is going on here?"

"I recall a memorable night spent _under_ an Amazon, though I am not quite sure how that is relevant to our present discourse."

She looks up, confused, and he gives her that wicked smile that makes her want to wipe it off his face every damn time. She rolls her eyes.

"Your books are available on a website. That means people outside of Storybrooke have heard of you. Which is impossible, since as we experienced, the curse only goes as far as the town line."

Hook looks thoughtful, his earlier playfulness gone.

"I don't know what to answer to that, love."

Emma throws up her hands in frustration. 

"This whole curse is _insanely_ detailed anyway." She picks up the book and shakes it slightly. "I mean, who wrote this? And then the whole-", she almost brings up the photo album, but stops herself just in time. "-stuff at the house", she finishes lamely.

Hook must have thought about it anyway, because she sees a slight blush creep up his cheeks and it's adorable and sweet and _damn him_.

"Although I guess there are some holes. I mean, shouldn't you have a study? A place to write?"

He seems grateful about the change in topic. 

"Ah, Swan, if you'd read the information about the author in the back of that book, you'd know that I'm quite _eccentric_ and prefer to write outside, drawing my inspiration from the atmosphere and energy around me." He makes a grand gesture with his right hand. "Which is why I decided to move to an idyllic small town in the middle of nowhere."

"Okay, looks like they, it, whatever, thought of everything."

Hook is suddenly serious again. 

"Have you considered the possibility that there is something wrong with _us_?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, clearly _something_ happened to us. But what if it's not a curse. What if this is the real world and the two of us are just in the grip of some form of madness? What if our memories are the ones that _aren't_ real?"

Emma just stares at him, unwilling to even contemplate that idea. He's staring at her with a serious expression. Then she spots the corner of his mouth twitching and realizes that he's messing with her.

She makes a relieved sound somewhere between a laugh and huff.

"Almost had you there, didn't I, Swan?"

He has a radiant smile on his face now and she cannot help but smile back at him.

"Nonsense. I knew you were messing with me from the start."

He laughs and the serious mood that had settled over them is broken. 

To her utter and complete surprise, they spend a delightful evening from then on. While they share a dessert, she spots him looking at her again with that mixture of fondness and affection and her stomach does a strange somersault. 

She reminds herself sternly that this is a fake date, a fake relationship. He's a pirate. Walked straight out of a children's book. He's from a completely different _world_ , for God's sake. 

As far as she knows he spent _decades_ focussed on nothing else besides his revenge. In spite of the time they spent together in Neverland, she doesn't know him all that well, doesn't know for sure what kind of man he really is. He _seems_ honest and truthful, at least were she is concerned, but can she really afford to take a chance on him? 

She thinks back to the moment she chained him atop the beanstalk. The honest surprise and confusion and _hurt_ in his eyes. _I can't take a chance that I'm wrong about you_. The words still ring clear in her mind. Back then, she'd already been doubtful about her decision. Since then, he's helped save Henry and come to New York for her.

"You know, you could at least pretend to listen while I'm talking." The words have a teasing edge, but he's smiling at her. It's true, she cannot recall a word he has said in the last few minutes.

She looks away, ashamed that she let her thoughts wander. When she looks back up, their eyes lock and she sees a multitude of emotions flicker over his face. And she knows that there could be something here, with the two of them, if she gave it a chance. It still comes down to the same question. Can she afford to take a chance on this man?


	7. Chapter 7

The car ride home is pleasant. They joke around, and laugh, and Killian deludes himself into thinking that maybe this whole venture was not such a bad idea after all, that maybe for once things are working out in his favour.

His hope evaporates the second they find themselves alone in their bedroom together, the awkwardness slamming back full force. He can almost _feel_ the moment Emma's walls come back up, her stance becoming defensive, the tension returning to her body. 

He sighs and sits down on his side of the bed, facing away from her. He slowly removes his fake hand and brace, then lies down under the duvet, still facing away from Emma, afraid of what he might see if he turned around. It was nice, having been allowed a glance at the real Emma, the warm, friendly, _happy_ woman underneath the mask. He cannot bare seeing the old defences back in place just yet.

"Goodnight, Killian." 

His eyes widen in shock and he almost turns around. Her voice is soft, hesitant, belying her earlier body language. From the closeness of her voice, he can tell that she is lying on the bed facing towards him. Was he mistaken when he thought he saw her walls come up again? He cannot remember her ever using his given name before. 

He hears a rustle of bed sheets and turns to lie on his back, looking over at her. Emma has turned away from him, his chance to study her face gone.

"Goodnight, Emma", he murmurs, following her example and using her first name for a change. It makes the moment strangely intimate, which is weird, seeing as they are already lying in bed together. He turns to face the wall again and closes his eyes, hoping that sleep will claim him sooner this night than the last.

* * *

Killian wakes up to something tickling his nose. He thinks groggily that he will never get used again to waking on land. The world should be moving. He inhales and his nostrils are filled with a sweet flowery scent. He opens his eyes and sees a mop of unruly blond hair. _Bloody hell_. Their positions are reversed this time, he is spooning Emma, his right arm thrown over her.

He is instantly aware of every point of contact through the thin layers of clothing they are wearing. He suddenly feels very hot, his skin tingling everywhere where Emma is pressed against him. His body is reacting to her closeness and he shudders to think what will happen when she wakes up to this. He buries his head on her shoulder to stifle the moan about to escape his lips.

He curses himself inwardly. He cannot go through this every morning. Tonight he's sleeping on the couch. He'll figure out some way to explain it to the lad.

He knows he has to let her go. The sooner the better. He inhales deeply and commits her scent to memory, then he slowly untangles his arm and starts to draw back from her. 

Emma mumbles in her sleep and moves closer to him, shifting back against him. This time he is not quick enough to stop the groan from spilling out. He bites his lip to at least prevent any further unwanted sounds.

Killian lays his head back down carefully, considering his options. Waking up Emma is out of the question. Staying like this is out of the question. He'll have to try a fast retreat and hope he doesn't wake her up in the process.

Just when he is about to make his move, Emma shifts again, and yawns. Killian freezes in place, hoping fervently that she will go back to sleep.

As usual, he is out of luck. He notices the exact moment Emma comes out of her slumber, the tension returning to her body. She doesn't jump out of bed immediately, which a more optimistic man than him would probably have mistaken for an improvement.

She remains completely still and he wonders what is going on inside her head at this moment. Is she trying to pretend to be asleep still? For his part, he tries to keep his breathing as steady as possible, but he knows he's not fooling anybody, she's probably well aware that he's wide awake.

She surprises him by turning around and meeting his stare. He is certain he sees a flash of something that looks very much like desire in her eyes, stopping his breathing, and his heart, for all he knows. Emma looks at him with that inscrutable expression for another second, then she turns around again and hops off the bed, striding out of the bedroom at a measured pace, very evidently keeping herself from actually _running_ out of the room.

Killian lies back down on the bed with a groan. He rubs his hand over his eyes tiredly. He isn't sure how much more of this he can take and it's only their second morning.

* * *

When he comes down into the kitchen, Emma and Henry are already sitting at the table, talking animatedly. Once Emma notices him, something shifts in the atmosphere, a tension which is almost familiar by now settling in. 

He bites back a sigh and sits down, giving Henry a broad smile as he does so. Henry returns the smile, then digs back into his cereal. 

Between bites, his mouth still full, he says, "Can you come to class next week? We're doing the whole 'parents talk about what they do' thing." He makes little air quotes with his fingers as he talks.

Killian looks at him with a blank expression.

"Most of the kids in my class have read your book." Something in his tone surprises Killian and he realizes it's pride. Henry is talking about his work with pride in his voice.

"Even Wendy", Henry adds, meaningfully, and his smile widens.

"I wrote more than one book, you know", Killian corrects, surprising himself.

Henry rolls his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Your _famous_ book."

There is a pause while Killian struggles to make up an excuse.

"So, can you do it?" He's so eager, so happy and Killian cannot find it in himself to disappoint him.

"Sure."

"Great. And could you maybe not talk about your 'process' so much-" The air quotes are back. "-I know it's important and all, but you sometimes tend to ramble on a bit about it."

"I don't ramble", Killian says, huffily.

Henry shoots him a look and in that moment he can see the similarities with his mother more clearly than ever before.

"Whatever", Henry states and goes back to munching his breakfast.

Long minutes pass in a silence which quickly turns awkward. Killian tries to meet Emma's eyes several times, but she's always looking somewhere else.

Killian realizes that Henry is starting to pick up on the strange tension in the room. The lad is looking back and forth between the two of them, his eyes narrowed as if he's trying to figure out some complicated puzzle.

Emma must have noticed it too, because when she gets up to retrieve something from the fridge, she passes by Killian and casually gives him a quick peck on the forehead while affectionately ruffling up his hair.

It's over before Killian can even react. He tries to keep the surprise of his face for Henry's sake, but he's very doubtful as to his success.

He stares at his plate, without actually seeing anything, and suddenly he is completely and utterly _done_ with this _bullshit_. He feels his temper getting the better of him, his anger and frustration bubbling to the surface. If this is how Emma wants to do it, fine with him. Two can play this game.

When she walks past him again while returning to her chair, he takes a hold of her waist and pulls her into his lap. Emma is too surprised to react, falling down on him with a little surprised noise. He smiles brightly at her, then moves in for a kiss.

He catalogues Emma's reaction for later analysis, the way she first tenses, then melts against him, then tenses again. The kiss is nothing like the one they shared in Neverland. That kiss will be forever burned into his memory. He's sure he could live another 300 years and never forget it. No, this one is slower, more measured. Careful, restrained.

It is Emma who pulls back first, glaring at him angrily, her back to Henry.

"Daaad", Henry whines, " _Gross_. Can you please refrain from making out during breakfast." 

There is a strange note to his voice, on the surface it's all annoyance, but beneath that he sounds almost relieved. Emma takes his complaint as her cue to get up. She gives Killian a parting glare which promises bad things in his immediate future.

Henry finishes the last of his cereal and jumps up from his chair. He runs up the stairs, presumably to get his backpack. Killian watches him go when a fuming Emma suddenly steps into his line of vision.

"What. The hell. Was that." She enunciates every word carefully and he can almost feel the fury radiating off of her. He is aware that he might have overstepped their boundaries earlier, but he's also frustrated and at the end of his rope.

"Just playing the part, love." He aims for a neutral tone, but he falls short, sounding angry more than anything else.

"Listen, mister. Just because we are _pretending_ to have a relationship doesn't give you free reign to do whatever you want."

Killian's earlier anger flares up again, increased tenfold. Before he can stop himself, he stands up in one swift movement and invades Emma's personal space. She actually takes a step back, reading something of his mood in his face or body language.

"No, of course I don't have free reign to do whatever I want", he almost spits the words, the bitterness evident in his tone, "if I had, we would be talking about this instead of dancing around it like a bunch of bloody _cowards_. If I had, I would be kissing you senseless right now instead of arguing. If I _had_ what I want this wouldn't be a bloody _fake_ marriage in the first place!

He stops abruptly, shocked at his admission. During his small speech, he's been slowly walking forward, backing Emma against the wall. She's looking at him with wide eyes, clearly as shocked as he is. He swallows and tries to figure out his next move. 

Henry comes running down the stairs, interrupting them. They are lucky that he seems to be unable to do anything without making a racket, so at least they get a warning of his approach. When he hears the lad, Killian immediately steps back and tries to school his features into a neutral expression.

"See you later", Henry says, barely sparing them a glance before he's out the door.

Once he's out of earshot, Killian sighs and rubs his hand over his eyes. The anger left him as quickly as it came and now he's just feeling exhausted. He finally looks up to meet Emma's eyes. She's still standing frozen in place. For once, he cannot read her expression, there's a whirlwind of emotions crossing her features.

Neither of them moves and the house is eerily silent.

"Emma", he says, breaking the silence, "What do you want from me, love?" He can hear the weariness in his own voice.

She looks at him and opens her mouth, but then closes it again without making a sound. She shakes her head.

"I can't do this right now", she whispers and grabs her coat and purse, fleeing from the house, from him, the second day in a row. 

His first impulse is to run after her, but he knows such an action would not be welcome. He sighs again, wondering how they are ever going to get out of this gridlock they have found themselves in, unable to move forward or back. 

He knows that he cannot, will not, give up. Emma is stubborn and proud, traits he himself is quite familiar with. He is sure there is something between them, something worth fighting for. If only he could get Emma to admit that as well, at least to herself.


	8. Chapter 8

"What's bothering you?"

Emma looks up from the papers in front of her, her gaze unfocussed.

"Huh?"

David sighs. "Emma. You've been distracted all day. Tell me what's going on."

"It's nothing."

David casually leans against her desk at the sheriff's station, his arms crossed, looking thoughtful. At her statement, his eyebrows shoot up. He's clearly not buying it.

"Fine. If you don't want to talk about, I'll respect your privacy." 

Emma detects a slight note of hurt in his voice. David turns around abruptly and stalks off to his own desk. Emma gives up on the report in front of her and sighs. She's been rereading the same paragraph three times now without taking in any information. She just cannot focus. She should be investigating who cast the curse, but she cannot focus on that task either. _Damn_ Hook.

The phone on David's desk rings and she jolts in surprise. The sound is very loud in the silent office. David picks it up and talks to whoever is on the line. Emma has difficulty following his conversation, her thoughts straying back to the events of the morning. Damn that damnable pirate and his unasked for declarations.

David gets up and grabs his coat.

"Something is happening on main street. Apparently the road is blocked. Let's have a look."

Emma is grateful for the distraction, then immediately angry at herself. She shouldn't be happy about being distracted. She should be busy finding out what the hell is going on and what she can do to stop it.

* * *

Emma stares at the scene before her, her mouth hanging open. There's an honest to God _marching band_ blocking main street. At the head of the marching band is Gold, down on one knee. Belle is standing before him, beaming down at him. Even from the distance, it's clear that she's overjoyed. 

Emma hears the 'Yes' in spite of the distance. Gold stands up and they embrace each other. The gathered crowd actually _cheers_. Emma narrows her eyes and looks at the faces of the townsfolk next to her and it's big, honest smiles all around.

And all of a sudden something that has been bothering her since they entered town slams to the forefront of her mind. People seem genuinely _happy_. She remembers when she came to Storybrooke for the first time. The atmosphere back then was downright gloomy. There was something in the air, like everybody was caught in a trap, unable to live the life they really wanted. Back then, the town was suffused with unfulfilled potential, unlived dreams, haunting memories of a different life. 

She sees none of that in the faces around her. Everybody seems full of life and energy. The bystanders look genuinely happy for Gold and Belle. It's a completely different Storybrooke. Now that she's noticed, she wonders how she could have missed this vital piece of information for so long. A small voice in the back of her head pipes up that maybe she has been distracted, but she shuts it down. She needs to focus. She has a strong feeling that she's onto something here.

David is talking to Gold, presumably trying to get the marching band of the street. He's smiling, though, so she assumes it's a friendly conversation. Emma has a sudden thought. David looks like he'll be fine on his own. She turns around to check the clock tower and sure enough, the clock is ticking. On a hunch, Emma enters the building and makes her way to the top of the tower.

There's nothing out of the ordinary in the tower as far as she can see. She sighs and makes her way down the stairs again. When she exits the building, she notices a woman across the street staring at her. Emma is pretty certain that she has never seen her before. The woman is strikingly beautiful, tall, with long blond, almost white, hair falling down her shoulders. Even though she's wearing jeans and a plain shirt, she looks like she just stepped out of some fairy tale. Which is probably what happened.

The woman realizes that Emma has spotted her and turns away, walking quickly into an alley. Emma gives chase. Her gut instinct tells her that this woman knows something about what's going on. Emma follows her for several minutes. The strange woman is almost running now and Emma has to speed up in order to keep up with her.

Emma turns around a corner into a dead end. An empty dead end. Which is impossible, since she's sure the woman was ahead of her and definitely took a turn around this corner.

"Can I help you?", she hears a strong, commanding voice behind her.

Emma turns around and up close the woman is even more striking. Her features look like somebody chiselled her out of white marble, possible while trying to create a statue of an angel. Her expression diminishes the illusion a little, she looks angry and annoyed. 

Emma decides on a straightforward approach. She spent enough time beating around the bush already.

"Have you ever been to the Enchanted Forest?"

The woman's eyes widen a tiny fraction. _Gotcha_ , Emma thinks.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you are referring to."

Emma is more than _done_ with all of it and ready for this nightmare to be over. Hence, her reply comes out a little more gruffly than she intended.

"Listen, I know when people are lying to me and you're lying your ass off right now. How are you involved with this curse?"

"Curse?"

Her expression is one of honest confusion and it's so well done that Emma almost believes it. However, her gut instinct tells her a different story.

"Cut the bullshit, lady. The curse who brought everyone back to Storybrooke."

The woman's expression changes. "You're Emma, aren't you?"

Emma considers her options for a second and decides to go with the truth. "Yes. Emma Swan. The saviour. At your service. Now, please tell me what the hell is going on here."

The woman looks her up and down. "I don't understand. Why are your memories still intact?"

"So you _do_ know what's going on here!" Emma crosses her arms. "Spill it."

The woman sighs but something in Emma's stance must have convinced her that further argument is useless.

"We went back to the Enchanted Forest and for a while everything was fine. People were happy to be home again. Or deluded themselves into thinking they were. But then, out of nowhere, there was more and more unrest, people started complaining about every little thing." She pauses. "I guess you only know the value of indoor plumbing once you don't have it anymore. People began to crave the luxuries they had known in this world. Chocolate. Coffee. Internet. For regular folks, life is much tougher in the Enchanted Forest than in Storybrooke. I saw unhappy faces everywhere, people easy to anger and quick to lash out at one another."

She looks around, as if trying to find something to reassure herself.

"We didn't really belong there any longer. Yet, we also didn't belong in this world. We are cursed to be forever drawn to two worlds, our memories divided between the old life we knew in the Enchanted Forest and the new life we knew here. I felt we are better off without knowing the truth about ourselves."

Emma looks at her in shock.

"You cast the curse because you thought it would make people _happy_?" Her eyes widen as she remembers the details of the curse. "You crushed the heart of the thing you loved most because you weren't quite satisfied with your _life style_?"

The woman huffs. "Don't be silly, child. I didn't cast a dark curse. I gave people the life they deserve."

Emma's eyes narrow in confusion.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiles. "That's irrelevant. Besides, you won't remember it even if I told you."

She reaches forward quicker than Emma can react, touching Emma's forehead with her index finger. The sensation she experienced at the town line returns, only much stronger. She feels her magic flare up, fighting against the intrusion, but this time she isn't strong enough. She feels her memories slip away from her one by one and it's a terrifying feeling. 

"S-stop." Her protest is weak, her vision slowly going blurry.

The last thing she hears is the woman's voice, sounding strangely soothing.

"Stop fighting, Emma. Be happy."

* * *

Killian puts down his book and picks up his tea. The beverage has long since gone cold, but he doesn't notice, he's too deep in thought. He picked up the book in the hope that it might contain a clue about the curse. After all, it's a product of the curse and it's about a boy finding out the truth. If he's honest with himself, that was mostly an excuse. What he actually needed was something to distract him from his fight with Emma.

He spent the morning walking around town aimlessly, trying to clear his mind. His treacherous feet took him to the docks and he stood there for a long time, looking at the open water, his heart filled with a strange melancholy. After a while, he was fed up with his self pity and decided to do something productive. He went to the pawn shop, intend on confronting the crocodile. 

No matter the realm, Rumpelstiltskin always has something to hide. Killian is certain the man has something to do with this curse or at least some knowledge of what happened. Alas, the crocodile was nowhere to be found. Killian spent half an hour in a fruitless search of his shop, finding nothing that brought him any closer to solving the riddle. In the end, he returned home, still as frustrated and upset as when he left.

The book had turned out to be a great distraction. It had a decidedly unreal feeling to it. He recognized a lot of phrases, a lot of idioms, the style of it felt like something he could have written. It was at the same time unbelievably familiar and yet completely unknown to him. And it was quite well written, if he could say so himself. He was captivated by it, devouring page after page.

He rubs his eyes, then picks the book up again. He is so enraptured that he doesn't hear the door open and close. He jolts when he feels the soft brush of Emma's hair as she leans over his shoulder to find out what he's so captivated with.

"Feeling a bit narcissistic today, are we?" Her words are teasing, but they lack the bite he expected. Her voice is affectionate, fond even. His head snaps up and he drops the book on the table.

Emma is smiling down at him. It's an honest, open smile which transforms her face and makes her breathtakingly beautiful. Alarm bells go off in the back of Killian's mind immediately. Something is not right.

She straightens up and looks around. "Where's Henry?"

Killian studies her, takes in her relaxed pose, her friendly smile and the unsettling feeling that something is wrong with her intensifies.

"He's spending the afternoon at a friend's, playing with something called an 'exbox'."

Emma grins down at him. "Something 'called an X-box' says the man who almost missed the deadline for his second novel because of Halo 4."

A terrifying thought strikes Killian. "Emma, love, are you feeling well?"

Emma is still smiling and even though he has to concede it's a beautiful sight, it is rather unsettling at the moment.

"Never better", she states and sits down on his lap, her legs on either side of him and dives in for a passionate kiss. He's too surprised to react at first. After a moment, he responds in kind, without thinking. The kiss is deep and affectionate, yet it is completely different from their first kiss. It's not fast and hard, it is rather a promise of things to come.

Killian's worst fears seem to have become reality. Again. He pulls back from the kiss and looks at Emma's face.

Emma is looking back at him with an unguarded expression and what he sees there takes his breath away. There's desire in her eyes, affection and _love_. She's looking at him as if they have known each other all their lives, as if she wants to be with him, as if she's content and happy. Killian swallows around the sudden lump in his throat.

"I need to take a shower", she says and grins at him wickedly, "Wanna join?"

Killian groans and closes his eyes for a heartbeat. He cannot stop the image that invades his mind, him and Emma in the shower, the water running down her bare skin. He's growing hard and he knows she must feel it.

When he opens his eyes again, Emma is looking at him with a smug expression, clearly pleased with the effect she is having on him. She kisses him again, slowly and passionately, and he is lost in the moment, forgetting for a second that this is not Emma, that this is not what she really wants. For a second, he allows himself to be just in the present and forget the ramifications.

It is him once more who pulls back first, to find Emma looking at him expectantly. There is a small, selfish part of him that just wants to say yes. He has been through so much, has given up so much, surely he must have earned this by now. She finally wants this, wants _him_ and it would be so easy to give in and pretend it's true.

But even as he is having these thoughts, he knows in his heart that it's not right. It would not only be very bad form indeed, it would be a breach of trust that he's certain they could never come back from. Emma isn't herself right now. It would be the same as taking advantage of a drunk or intoxicated lass. He is not that kind of man. Especially not when it comes to Emma.

He watches the expression on Emma's face change slowly, the smile turning to worry. "Is everything alright?"

"Aye. Yes", he struggles for something to say, "I'm just not in the mood at the present moment."

Killian has told many lies in his long life, but that might just be the most outrageous untruth to ever leave his lips.

Emma's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, then the wicked smile returns.

"Really? Because I think there is some _hard evidence_ to the contrary."

Killian bites his lip. He never pictured himself on the receiving end of the innuendo. He tries to come up with some explanation that won't clue Emma in immediately to the fact that he's not quite the man she married. He comes up empty-handed. He can't think of a single reason why he shouldn't join Emma in the shower. Well, actually he thought of a couple of very good reasons just a minute ago, but none that he can share with the woman in his lap.

"Um", he says, stupidly, looking anywhere but at Emma.

Emma puts her left hand on his cheek and tilts his head to face her.

"Are you sure you're alright? What's going on?"

Killian has a sudden inspiration. 

"I, um, just had an idea. For a novel. I need to put it into writing before the words vanish. My apologies, love."

Emma looks disappointment, but unsurprised. It seems he got lucky and found a plausible excuse.

"Okay. Try not to stay up the whole night, honey. Even writers need sleep."

She gives him another quick kiss, then she slips out of his lap and stands up.

He waits until she has safely vanished out of sight, then he drops his arms on the table and his head on top of them. Whatever did he do in his life for the Gods to decide to tempt him so? Well, he can think of quite a few things he did that might incline the Gods to punish him, but surely this torture is more than any mortal man deserves. For crying out loud, she _just_ got her memories back. Surely, this can't be happening _again_.

He sits up straight once more, deciding that there is no use in self-pity. He'll just have to find a way to break this damnable curse as soon as possible. He needs to speak with David and find out exactly what the two of them were doing today. If he can retrace her steps, maybe he can figure out at what point Emma's memories were affected. A scary thought hits him. What if the same thing happens to him? What if he also gets affected and they continue their lives like this, unaware of who they truly are?

His eyes are drawn back to the book. Would it really be such a terrible life? He was a successful man in this reality. He had a job, a house, friends. A better life than he deserved. He had Emma. And Henry. 

The irony of the situation is not lost on him. Only a few days ago he told Emma that she couldn't live a lie and now he is considering to do exactly that. No, it wouldn't do. He's certain that their true identities could never be erased completely. Surely, something of their true selves, their essence, must remain and always cast a tiny shadow of doubt on their existence. No, he will break the spell somehow and win Emma over without the trickery of a curse.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It might have occurred to some of you already that there is some canon divergence before the story begins. Since there is no wicked witch, obviously Walsh wasn't a flying monkey either. Let's just assume in this universe he simply turned out to be an idiot who did something stupid like cheat on Emma. Whereupon she left him.

Killian stays up for a long time, thinking. And avoiding to join Emma in bed, lest she wake and proposition him again. He's not sure he has the strength to resist her advances while they are lying in bed in together. He shakes his head and wonders how he reached a point in his life where he's trying to resist Emma's charm. 

Before finally going to sleep, he decides to create a safeguard in case he does get affected by whatever or whoever caught up to Emma yesterday. It takes him a moment to find pen and paper, rummaging through the downstairs cupboards. After that quest is successfully completed, he sits down at the table and stares at the empty pages, unsure how to tell his cursed self the truth without sounding like a madman. He sighs, then begins to write.

_Hey mate,_

_I hope you still recognize your own handwriting. I assume it will not change, but you never know. No, you did not write this in a moment of madness. Or intoxication. I know you well enough to be certain that you must have suspicions. A feeling that there is something wrong with the world. You do not know what it is but it is there, at the corner of your mind, just out of reach. You are living a dream, Killian. Granted, it is a bloody fantastic one, but It is time to wake up. Stop fighting the feeling of unease, the fear that the world is not as it should be. Embrace it. Remember Liam. Remember Milah. Remember the Jolly Roger. I know it is painful, but you must remember who you really are. For your sake. For Emma's sake. For everybody's sake._

_Good luck,_  
_Killian Jones,_  
_Dashing Rapscallion (remember?)_

He stares at the note for a long time, imagining his cursed self, trying to figure out if that man would take such a note seriously or discard it as nothing more than a prank. He cannot reach a conclusion one way or the other. With a sigh, he stores the note in one of the breast pockets of his leather coat. He contemplates sleeping in the guest bedroom, but at this point it would not only upset Henry but Emma as well. 

He sighs again and sneaks into the room, putting on the ridiculous sleep wear of this realm very quietly. He stares at the bed for maybe a moment longer than is entirely prudent. He can barely make out Emma's sleeping form in the darkness, but his imagination supplies plenty of details before he shuts it down with force. He takes of his hook and brace and lies down under the covers carefully, trying not to disturb Emma.

He lies completely still even though his heart is beating at an entirely unjustified pace and he is starting to sweat in spite of the fact that he again foolishly decided to forgo adding a shirt to his sleep wear. He has spent most of the evening trying to come up with a solution as to how he could politely refuse Emma's advances without hurting her feelings in the process. All those hours were spent in fruitless labor though, because he still doesn't have the faintest clue how to pull of that feat.

It also heavily relies on the assumption that he will, indeed, be able to resist Emma. He might be vastly overestimating his self control on that front. The image of Emma in the shower that assaulted him earlier is still vivid in his memory. In his mind's eye, he can see the hot water running down her beautiful hair, over her breast, down over her stomach and her long, slender legs.

He groans and tries to shut down that train of thought. _Bad form, Jones._ He has fantasized about Emma in the past, of course he has, he is only human. But he knows exactly where this is heading and he refuses to engage in that activity with Emma lying right next to him. He considers spending the night in the guest room after all. Or maybe he'll just go over there quickly, get this over with and return to bed. Maybe it will help take some of the pressure out of this nightmare of a situation. Or maybe it will make things ten times worse.

He is still debating with himself when he feels Emma's arm snaking around his waist, her body scooting closer, spooning him from behind. Her head comes to rest in his hair. 

"Hey", Emma says sleepily, then she's quiet again. Killian waits, his heart beating even faster than before, his muscles tense, but there is no further sound from Emma. So much for his idea to sneak out of bed. Emma's breathing becomes even once more and Killian assumes she has nodded off to sleep again. 

He forces his muscles to relax, but it's no easy task. There is just so much wrong with all of this and yet on some level it feels so right, to lie in bed with Emma wrapped around him and he's not sure he can put up with this limbo for another week, hell, another day, without losing his wits. After a long time, he drifts off to an uneasy sleep.

* * *

When he wakes late the next morning, Emma is already gone and he breathes a sigh of relief. At least, he will be spared the awkwardness of another encounter until she returns from work. He makes his way down to the kitchen and is suddenly aware of the emptiness of the huge house. It's only been a couple of days, but he has already gotten used to the ruckus that Henry makes whenever he's around. Now, everything is eerily quiet and out of nowhere, he feels very alone. Which makes no sense, seeing as he spent the previous day on his own without these feelings. It probably has more to do with being the only person left with intact memories, the only chance for everybody to return to their real lives. It is a lot of pressure.

He sighs and decides that a change of plans is in order. He needs to make at least a try to convince somebody of the truth or he will surely go mad before finding a way to break the curse on his own. He gets the talking phone and manages to convince it to let him talk to David.

While he waits for the other man to respond, he hops from one foot to the other nervously, doubting his decision to reach out to David. What if he comes off as a crazy man? What if David talks to Emma about it? He needs to tread very carefully. 

David replies almost immediately.

"Hey, man. What's up? Are we still on for tomorrow?"

"Err, aye, certainly. Listen, David, I need to talk to you." It still feels strange to address Emma's father in such a personal manner.

"Of course. We could meet during my lunch break?" David's voice is carefully neutral, but it's obvious he knows that something is going on. He's a lot more perceptive than Killian remembers him.

"Great. Thank you. Could you pick me up at my house?"

"Sure."

"Oh, and David, one more thing-"

"Don't tell Emma?" Certainly much more perceptive.

"Aye."

"See you around noon."

"Goodbye."

* * *

By the time Emma's father arrives in what passes for a carriage in this realm, Killian has devised and discarded five different strategies to broach the topic he wants to discuss with the other man. He still has trouble thinking of David as a friend. Which is probably for the best, seeing as, once the curse is broken, David will probably resume the protective father role, as well as his view of Killian as a potential threat to his daughter's well-being. 

When he stops the carriage and disembarks, a worried expression almost concealed on his face, Killian has a sudden inspiration. The curse affected them the moment they entered town. If he can get Charming to cross the town line, maybe his memories will be restored. It's quite a gamble though, who knows what side effects leaving town might incur.

He walks up to David to greet him and is surprised when the other man embraces him in a quick hug.

"Shall we go inside?" His tone is serious, betraying his anxiety.

Killian shakes his head. "I need to show you something."

He enters the carriage on the passenger side and David pauses for a moment, then follows him.

"So, where are we going?"

"Take us to the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign."

David is clearly confused by this request, but to his credit starts driving without asking any questions. Killian feels suddenly overwhelmed by the extend of the blind faith this version of David has in him.

They drive on in silence. Killian almost speaks up several times, but he is never quite sure how to phrase the actual words. David is clearly aware that something is going on with him, but doesn't press the matter for the moment.

They are getting close to the town line. "Stop here", Killian requests, and David does it without question.

They get out of the car and Killian looks at the town line anxiously. Then he looks at Charming. The other man is looking back at him with a questioning expression, his eyebrows drawn up, waiting for him to spit it out already.

Killian sighs. He's aware that he is making a huge decision on David's behalf. What if something horrible happens to him once he crosses the line? He'd never be able to forgive himself. Emma would never be able to forgive him. He looks over at the prince once more. Killian thinks he knows who David really is. A man that would risk his life without question when it comes to protecting his people, protecting his family. He assumes that David would take this gamble without hesitation if there was a chance of saving the town.

"There's something over there you need to look at." Killian points at a random tree on the other side of the line.

David's eyebrows shoot up. He's likely caught on to the fact that Killian is lying to him. At the very least, he is fully aware that Killian is withholding information. And yet, _he starts walking_ anyway, making Killian wonder once again just what they are to each other in this alternate version of history.

The second he crosses the town line, David drops to his knees, grabbing his head in pain. Killian instinctively reaches out to him, but stops himself. He cannot risk leaving town. He doesn't have Emma's magic at the moment to protect him. He cannot risk losing his memory as well. Once that happens, all is lost. So he watches David's suffering in silence, without being able to do so much as lend him a hand.

After several minutes, David finally sits up straight again and looks around. He turns to him, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

"Hook?"

Killian closes his eyes, breathes a sigh of relief and thanks the Gods.

"Do you remember anything? Do you know how you got here?"

David stands up and looks around.

"We - I - I drove us here, didn't I?" He shakes his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. "We're back in Storybrooke, aren't we? I - I have another set of memories. Oh Gods, my head _hurts_."

He stumbles closer and Killian raises his hand in warning. "Don't cross the town line!"

David blinks, confused. "Or what?"

"Or you might lose your new-found knowledge again as quickly as you attained it. When Emma, Henry and I crossed the town line, we were affected by the curse as well. Emma's magic protected her and me, but Henry suddenly remembered a different life that he had led here in Storybrooke."

David nods. "One in which you are his father. And you are married to my daughter."

The second sentence holds a clear note of warning. At least they are back in familiar territory now.

Killian clears his throat and scratches behind his ear. "I can assure you that nothing untoward has happened between me and Emma."

David stares at him and Killian resists the sudden urge to flinch away from him. Then he nods. "Good. Keep it that way." His voice is even more threatening than before.

"What's our next move?" David asks, to Killian's surprise. He expected the prince to take charge the moment his memories were restored.

"Well, we know now that it is possible to restore people's memories by physically moving them over the town line. However, it is highly likely that they will fall back under the spell of the curse the upon reentry. So, this knowledge does not actually help us with finding a solution to our current predicament. I wonder though, why it never happens that town's folk cross the line and suddenly remember their true selves."

David seems to be deep in thought. "I remember having a certain - I don't know, I guess you could call it aversion to leaving town. Maybe it's a part of the curse, something that makes the residents unwilling to leave town."

"You crossed the line without hesitation when I asked you to", Killian reminds him.

David gives him another measuring look. "The man who crossed the town line trusted you with his life." Killian's eyes widen in surprise.

"I apologize for taking this risk with your life, I didn't see any other options", he mumbles in reply.

"No, you made the right call. It gives us more information about the curse, at least. But it leaves me with two undesirable alternatives, either I stay out of town, unable to help, or I come back with you and risk being under the influence of the curse again."

Killian nods, then remembers why he brought David to the town line in the first place.

"Listen, mate, when we entered town, Emma was fine, her memories were intact. But when she returned from work yesterday evening, she thought she really was my wife." He sees something flash over David's face. He clearly did not hide the bitterness in his voice as well as he thought. "We need to retrace her steps to uncover what happened to her. Do you recall a shift in her behavior?"

David's eyebrows knit together as he puzzles the question over. "I remember thinking that both of you were acting strangely ever since you returned. I was worried, but since neither of you seemed willing to talk about it, I decided to give you some space. Then yesterday, Emma seemed to be her old self again all of a sudden, so I assumed you two had worked out whatever it was that was bothering you."

"What was she doing when she returned to being her 'old self'?"

"We were called in because of a disturbance on main street. Gold was proposing to Belle and making quite a fuss about it. I talked to him and Emma went off somewhere else. When she returned she was normal again. Well, what my cursed self thought of as normal, anyway."

"So you didn't actually see what happened to her."

"No. Sorry."

Killian hits the side of the car with his hook in frustration. This doesn't bring them any closer to figuring out who cast the curse or how to break it. They're back to square one. He's out of ideas.

"Why didn't you bring Emma here?", David asks.

"What?"

"You said her magic protected both of you when you came back to town. Maybe that could work a second time."

Killian wants to kick himself as David's words sink in. Of course. How did he not see this? A small voice in the back of his head pipes up that maybe he had even more reservations about sending Emma over the town line than he had about doing it to Charming. But now they have proof that it doesn't harm the person.

"Aye. I hadn't considered that option. It makes sense. Let's do it straight away, before whatever affected Emma in town also gets to me. Do you want to come back with me or not?"

David smiles. "Well, somebody has to drive you. And I cannot accomplish anything from here. Plus, the man I am while I'm in town trusts you unconditionally. You will still have my help, even if I don't remember the truth."

Killian nods. It's the answer he expected. Much like himself, David is not a man who sits on the sideline and waits, while others take action. 

David takes a deep breath and braces himself. "Well, here goes."

He steps over the town line. For a second, nothing happens and the two men look at each other hopefully. Then, David's face turns into a grimace of pain and he stumbles. Killian shoots forward to support him and manages to keep him from falling. After a few minutes, David stands up again, holding his head, looking confused.

"What happened?"

"You had a terrible head pain. You almost passed out."

David leans against the hood of the car. "Weird. I never had any trouble with migraine before."

Killian doesn't know the word, but if it explains the situation to David, he's on board with it.

"I need to talk to Emma. Can you take me back to the station with you?"

David sighs. "Listen, Killian. I think I have been very forthcoming in playing along with your shenanigans. But enough is enough. You'll have to give some explanation about what's going on here."

Killian doesn't have time for this. Or maybe he doesn't have the nerves for a heart to heart with Emma's father.

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course. You know that. But this is not about whether or not I trust you. I'm worried about you, man. You're behaving weirdly recently. Why are we even here? I just need to know what's going on with you."

 _Dammit_. He can see that he's not going to get the other man's help without giving him something. Time to improvise. It's a good thing he was always quick on his feet.

"Me and Emma are going through some things at the moment." David nods, looking unsurprised. He clearly suspected something of the sort. He makes a motion with his hand, conveying 'go on'. "It's going to be fine. We'll work it out. But I could really use your help and I would appreciate if you don't ask questions for the time being. I promise it will all make sense in the end."

David sighs again. "You're asking me for a huge leap of faith here."

"I know. But I can assure you there is nothing wrong with me. I know some of the things I've said and done seem strange to you, but believe me, there is an explanation for everything. I just cannot give it to you at this moment. I need you to trust me."

David stands up straight and looks at Killian, then he smiles. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. Okay, let's do it."

David enters the carriage without another word and Killian walks around to the passenger side. That was easier than expected. Now, all he has to do is to convince both Emma and David to cross the town line. Then, Emma's magic has to work once again to protect their memories. And then they still need to figure out how to break this _damnable_ curse. It's going to be a very long day.


	10. Chapter 10

Killian nervously drums his fingers on his leg on the drive back to the station. He's certain Emma will not simply accompany them to the town line without some sort of explanation. So far he doesn't have a clue what he is going to tell her. If only he really were a writer, he could come up with some ridiculous, intriguing story.

He sighs and looks up. They're still deep in the forest. They come around a bend in the road and out of nowhere a tall, blonde woman stands right in front of their carriage, her hand outstretched towards them. 

"Dave!", he yells, panicky. In one swift action, David curses, breaks and swerves. Killian gets thrown forward from a heavy impact, then everything goes black.

* * *

Killian returns to consciousness slowly. His back hurts like hell and there's the iron taste of blood in his mouth. Fantastic. This really makes the day complete. He groans. There's a scraping noise to his right. Somebody is trying to force open the entryway on the passenger side. He groggily turns to his left and sees David slumped unconsciously on the steering wheel. There's a trickle of blood running down his face. 

He turns back around and suddenly there's the woman again, inches from his face. Her expression is furious, and he is taken aback, feeling a flare of anger himself. After all, she basically ran them off the road just now. She glares at him indignantly and he wonders what he could have possibly done to deserve this. He can't recall ever having met her before in his life.

"Why do you refuse to be happy?", she almost spits in his face, her voice angry.

He must have hurt his head when the carriage crashed because he has no idea what she's talking about.

"What?", he croaks, his voice hoarse.

Her expression turns exasperated. "Why do I even bother?", she mumbles. Killian is utterly confused.

"Who are you?"

She rolls her eyes at his question, then gently touches her index finger to his forehead. He feels the familiar pulse of magic emanating from her, drawing him down, down, down into the abyss.

* * *

"Killian!", Emma yells from across the hallway, relieved.

He turns around when he hears her voice, a smile already on his lips. She hugs him and he winces when her arm comes in contact with a sore spot on his back. 

She pulls back to look him over, her worried expression turning soft as she sees that his injuries are only minor ones. She smiles at him and there's so much fondness, so much _love_ in her expression that it leaves him breathless. They have been married for more than a decade now, but every time she looks at him like this, it feels like the first time. 

"What happened?", she asks softly and Killian's eyebrows knit together as he contemplates the question. Ever since he regained consciousness in the hospital he's been wondering the same thing. It's all a bit of a blur.

"There was - a woman - I think?" It's more of a question than a statement, directed at David. Thankfully, his friend only suffered minor injuries as well. According to the doctor, he has a mild concussion and a small cut on his forehead, but all in all, they were pretty damn lucky.

David nods. "She came out of nowhere. It was almost like she was getting in front of the car intentionally. I don't recall ever seeing her in town before."

"Is she alright?", Emma asks, concerned, and Killian has to smile again. That's his wife, constantly worried about other people's welfare, even if she has never met them.

"We don't know. When I came to, she was nowhere to be found", David answers her question.

An alarm bell goes off in the back of Killian's head, something to do with the woman, but he cannot put his finger on it.

"What were you doing out there anyway?" There is no accusation in Emma's voice, only curiosity.

Killian turns to David, but his friend is looking at him with raised eyebrows, clearly expecting him to answer this question. Killian ponders it for a moment, then shrugs.

"It's all a bit of a blur, I'm afraid. I remember I had a reason to drive there, it seemed of vital importance at the time, but I can't recall it now for the life of me."

Emma seems undisturbed by his explanation, or lack thereof.

"Well, if it was important, I'm sure it'll come back to you. I'm just glad you're okay."

She hugs him again and he reciprocates, running his hand down her back soothingly.

"I'm fine, love, don't worry."

David clears his throat. "I'm also fine, in case anybody was wondering."

Emma pulls back and grins at him sheepishly. "I'm sorry. How are you, David?"

David turns his head away, mock-affronted, and deadpans, "Too little, too late." Killian knows him all to well not to notice the slight twitch of his lips indicating that he's trying very hard to suppress a smile.

"David!", somebody yells from across the hallway, mirroring Emma's arrival. Mary Margaret comes storming down the corridor, giving him a running hug. David makes a surprised oomph sound. 

When she pulls back, he smiles at her. "I told you on the phone, I'm fine."

"I know, I know, I just had to see for myself." She looks over at Killian. "Glad to see you're okay as well."

David gives Emma a smug smile. "See? It's not that hard."

Emma rolls her eyes. "Whatever."

David's mood turns serious again. "We should get back to the scene of the accident and search for the woman. I'm almost certain I didn't hit her, but I wouldn't want to find out later that she stumbled around confused or injured in the forest and something happened to her."

Emma nods. "Agreed. Let's go." She turns back to Killian and gives him a long, deep kiss.

When she pulls back, he raises an eyebrow at her. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for, milady?"

She shrugs. "Do I need a reason to kiss my husband?", she grins and softly bumps her nose into his. Mary Margaret makes a face.

"Could you two stop being adorable for all of _five seconds_?" Her voice is annoyed on the surface, but there is a distinct note of fondness underneath it. She turns back to David. "Are you sure you're well enough to get back to work immediately? Didn't you say something about a concussion on thee phone?"

He raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm fine, I promise. I couldn't bear the thought of something happening to that woman because of me."

Mary Margaret smiles up at him. "I understand. Just be careful, okay? Don't overtax yourself." David nods in reply. "I won't, I promise." He leans his forehead against hers and Emma scoffs.

"Now, who's being adorable on purpose?"

Killian smiles at her, while David pulls a face at Emma. 

"Shall we go?", he asks his deputy.

"Sure, but I'm driving. Your car is wrecked anyway."

David's tone is sour. "Don't remind me."

Killian and Mary Margaret look after them as the sheriff and deputy walk down the corridor and out of the hospital.

"Our dashing heroes off to save the day", Killian remarks and Mary Margaret chuckles. 

"Need a lift?", she ask as the two of them fall into step next to each other, leaving the hospital as well.

"Aye, if you don't mind."

"You know, Killian, it's high time you got a car." They've had this argument many times before.

"As I'm sure you recall me saying, cars are the work of the devil. And I shall shun them wherever I can."

Mary Margaret sighs. "Stop pulling the eccentric writer card already and learn how to drive, you coward."

Killian looks affronted. "I assure you, _again_ , I'm not afraid of driving. I am merely in favor of more classic modes of transportation. Like walking. Or biking. Or sailing. Or anything that is not driving."

Mary Margaret rolls her eyes. "At least make Emma trade in that bug for a sensible car. I will never understand why she insists on driving that thing until it falls apart."

Killian smiles at that. "As you are well aware, I am not now nor have I ever been in a position to 'make' Emma do anything. That would be like a pebble trying to change the course of the avalanche."

"I'll let her know you compared her to a natural disaster", Mary Margaret shoots back, grinning.

They exit the hospital and it's a beautiful day outside, the sun has finally come out behind the clouds and hits him full in the face, and he can't help thinking how lucky he is. He's got it all. He's got the profession he always dreamed of, being able to follow his passion rather than having to drag himself to a boring office job. He has a smart kid, who believes in doing the right thing. He has a beautiful, fierce, amazing wife.

He looks over at Mary Margaret and adds great friends to the list. In many ways, he has come to think of David as the brother he never had. His brow furrows in thought. Something is wrong with that statement. 

_Why do you refuse to be happy?_ , echoes in the back of his mind and he stops short. Where did that come from? He is well aware of how lucky he is. He can't remember ever being this happy in his life. 

Mary Margaret stops a few steps later and looks back at him anxiously. 

"What's wrong?"

Killian shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He gives Mary Margaret an honest smile.

"Nothing. Everything is exactly as it should be."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I certainly hope I managed to surprise at least some of you with this chapter.  
> I know I could have had this in chapter one, but I thought it would be more fun to bring them under the curse one by one.
> 
> In case anybody is worried, no, they won't be stuck like this forever. In case anybody hoped they would be stuck like this forever, sorry to disappoint. But I guess you could just pretend this is the end of the story.


	11. Chapter 11

**_7 months later_ **

Killian stares at the screen, his attention elsewhere. The idea for a story is forming in the back of his mind, distracting him. Besides, he's seen the film before, even though for some reason he cannot recall any of the actual scenes.

Emma is fast asleep, her head resting in his lap. She had a long day at work and fell asleep already a few minutes into the film. He absent-mindedly draws his hand through her hair. For a while now, he's been having this annoying feeling that he's forgetting something important. Like a doctor's appointment. Or an anniversary. Or the idea for his next bestseller. Whatever it is, he just cannot put his finger on it.

A scene on the screen captures his attention. Morpheus is giving a speech about the nature of the matrix and Killian feels a cold shiver run down his spine. He scoots forward on the couch, taking in every word. A strange panic rises up in him. He doesn't know why, but something in the dialogue resonates with him. He is, suddenly and terribly, afraid that his life is a lie, that his world is an illusion.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it from this nonsense. Is this what a mid-life crisis feels like? Sudden, inexplicable existential dread? Thinking that all of his dreams and achievements are meaningless?

Emma stirs and opens her eyes, looking up at him sleepily. He moves his hand to cup her face and slowly strokes his thumb over her cheek. Their eyes lock and it helps to push down the rising panic. Emma is real, solid, in his arms and he just got riled up over a stupid scene in a film, that's all. 

Emma sits up, her brow furrowing. She clearly senses something off about his mood. _What's wrong?_ her eyes are inquiring without her forming any of the actual words.

Killian chuckles, but it sounds forced to his own ears. 

"Everything's fine, love. Just let myself get spooked by the film."

Emma turns her attention to the screen, clearly confused by his answer. She turns back to him with a raised eyebrow. It's an adorable look and he dives in for a short kiss. When they break apart again, Emma playfully bumps her nose against his.

"Shall we go to bed?", she asks in a seductive voice, which is ruined by a yawn at the end. Killian chuckles again, this time with true mirth. 

"If the lady insists."

* * *

Killian strolls barefoot into the kitchen the next morning. Henry is already sitting at the table, brooding. Killian is taken aback by how tall the lad has grown. He remembers when he was nothing but a toddler and he took him to the park for hours. It was the happiest time of his life. How did he go from that to a brooding teenager so quickly? It feels like years of his life just rushed by.

When he sits down at the table, Henry hands him a folded piece of paper and looks at him expectantly. Killian unfolds it and immediately recognises his distinct handwriting. He frowns. He has no recollection of writing this. As he reads on, his eyebrows shoot up in surprise and a cold shiver runs down his spine. The feeling is eerily similar to what he experienced the night before.

Who the hell is Milah? Or Liam? The names are meaningless to him. The inside of his right arm starts itching suddenly and he absent-mindedly rubs at it with his prosthetic. Was he high when he wrote that? Or drunk? Or is his memory simply failing him?

"Where did you find this?"

Henry eyes him suspiciously. "In one of the pockets of your old leather coat. I lost my wallet yesterday and I was turning the whole place over looking for it. When I picked up the coat, the note fell out." He makes a significant pause. "Are you sure you didn't mean for me to find it?"

Killian is surprised by his assumption. "What? Why would I do that?"

Henry grins at him. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's the start of some treasure hunt meant to convince me that 'magic is real'."

"That was years ago. I'm sure you've grown out of that. Besides, I've never seen this before in my life."

"Sure you haven't", Henry states sarcastically and quickly snatches the note out of his fingers. "So I shall get to the bottom of this. And if, in doing so, I learn a valuable life lesson about believing in things and stuff, so be it. I shall call it 'Operation Unicorn'." Now his voice is equal parts sarcasm and excitement. He clearly thinks this is some elaborate ruse that his father set up for him. 

He runs out of the room and up the stairs, probably in search of further clues, while Killian mulls over the contents of the note. How can he have written that and not remember it? Maybe he was sleep-writing? Is there such a thing? Could it be a forgery? Is _Henry_ trying to set _him_ up with some prank?

He sighs. His over-active imagination is running away with him again. There is probably some perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this.

* * *

Emma stares at the pile of paperwork in front of her and sighs. Lately, she's been assaulted time and again by a strange feeling that she's forgotten something important. Like leaving the stove on. But that's not it. She walked back into the house this morning before driving off, ignoring Killian's raised eyebrow, and double-checked. Probably it's a trivial thing like going to the dentist. When was the last time she did that anyway?

She's distracted from her musings by David's arrival at the station. He's late and she can tell immediately that something is up. He's practically beaming. She gets up and before she even has a chance to open her mouth to ask, he blurts out, "We're pregnant!" His voice is filled with wonder and Emma is truly happy for them. She gives David a hug, which is cut short because he's hopping from one foot to the other with glee, unable to contain his excitement. 

"Congratulations! That's wonderful news. I'm so happy for both of you."

"Thank you", David says, looking to be about a hair's breadth away from jumping up and down with joy.

"Do you mind if I leave you alone for a bit here? I want to tell Killian."

Emma grins. Obviously. "Not at all. I'm sure he will be thrilled."

David smiles at her and then _literally_ runs out of the station. Emma chuckles and is tempted for a moment to send her husband a warning, but she decides not to spoil David's big moment. Maybe Killian will be able to calm him down.

* * *

Killian stares at the blank document on his laptop, his frustration building. He had an idea for a short story yesterday, but now his mind is filled only with the mysterious note. He sighs. Maybe he can turn that into a story? Something about a man with amnesia leaving notes for himself? It sounds like something that must have been done before. He should do some research. A ring at the door distracts him.

He opens it and there's David, grinning at him like he just won the lottery. Killian starts to smile, already having some idea why the other man came to visit him.

"I'm going to be a father!" David blurts out and beams at him with a million watt smile. Killian embraces him in a tight hug, clapping David's shoulder as they pull apart again.

"Congratulations, mate. I hope you're not fond of sleep, because you'll never experience it again", Killian tells him mockingly. 

"Looking forward to it", David says honestly and Killian shakes his head in disbelief. He tries to recall how he first found out about becoming a father and for a terrible second he cannot remember. It should be burned into his memory forever, one of the defining moments of his life, but when he tries to think about it he comes up empty. The now familiar fear grips him again and he knows suddenly that something is horribly wrong. 

He remembers the note and the dread starting to engulf him intensifies. A sudden pain flares up in his right arm. He clumsily pushes down the sleeve with his prosthetic and gasps as he witnesses coloured lines appearing on his skin where a second before there was nothing. The words from the note flash through his mind. _Milah_. Liam. Jolly Roger. He looks up in panic and meets David's worried gaze. He feels like he is having some sort of stroke. Pain blossoms behind his right temple and then a flash of white light engulfs his vision.


	12. Chapter 12

Killian staggers backwards. The loss hits him almost like a physical blow. A minute ago he had a wife, a son, a calling, a _home_. Now, he has nothing. The old, familiar hatred for the crocodile flares up in him but it is nothing more than a dull ache. It falls horribly short of giving him any sense of purpose or direction now that he experienced the other life. 

Snippets from their months together flutter through his mind. Emma smiling at him. Henry proudly showing him an essay he wrote for school. Emma just home from work, relaxing in his arms. The three of them having breakfast together, joking around. Happy memories a moment ago that now only hurt. He's never had his heart ripped out, but he's pretty sure this is what it feels like.

David is talking to him, but the words are not penetrating his consciousness. He is struggling with the sudden grief of having lost a _life_. He blinks and tries to push back the pain in order to listen to the other man.

"Hook. Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

He nods weakly. So, it appears the curse has been broken. He wants to feel happy about that, but he cannot. All he can feel at the moment is despair.

David narrows his eyes, then sighs.

"Right. I guess I better go talk to Mary Margaret."

Killian nods again, still at a loss for words. He tries to feel compassion for David's situation, what was happy news a second ago is now uncertain. What if one or both of them actually don't want another child? Thankfully, he and Emma didn't try to get pregnant. What if Emma were now carrying his child, a child she didn't want? At least that nightmare passed them by. He tries to find some comfort in that.

David leaves, and Killian drops down into one of the chairs at the kitchen table, grieving for a life that was never his to begin with.

* * *

He is still lost in self pity when Henry arrives home. It's only noon, but apparently school ended early with the ending of the curse. Henry stops short when he spots him and looks uncertain. Killian stands up and tries to find words, anything, but there's nothing he can say. Nothing that could undo the knowledge that they both now have. Nothing that could even come close to describing how he feels, to the magnitude of having lost a son. He wants to tell Henry that he loves him, because he knows that it is still true. But he knows it's not his place. This boy is a stranger to him. 

Henry suddenly darts forward and hugs him tightly and Killian gratefully returns the gesture. He's trying to keep his emotions in check, keep the tears that are threatening to fall at bay. He realizes how self-centred he was. From Henry's point of view, he has lost a father. At least he also gained a mother. And grandparents. He will be able to cope.

With Henry in his arms, he considers that maybe he has thought about all of this in the wrong way. Rather than bemoaning the loss of his fake life, he should be grateful that he got to experience it at all. That he got to have several months in which his biggest worry was a blank document on a computer. That, even for a fleeting moment, he got to have a family again. 

The front door opens once more and Emma walks in, looking at the two of them, still embraced, with surprise. Henry lets go of him and turns around to run to his mother and give her a hug instead. 

"Hey, kiddo", Emma greets him and ruffles up his hair. Henry pulls back and smiles up at her. Then he looks at Killian, then back at Emma. It looks like he decides to give them some space. He is quite grown up for his age, Killian muses.

"I'll go check on mom. Regina, I mean."

Emma nods and Henry walks off, through the still open door. Emma's gaze finally meets his, but it's unreadable. He makes a step in her direction and she takes a small step backwards. So much for talking about it.

"Emma, I-"

She lifts up her hand. "Not now. The person who cast the curse is still on the loose. And I know exactly what she looks like. We need to track her down, before she finds some way to reinstate it."

Killian nods, accepting that he will not get anywhere if he pushes. "Fine. But after we've dealt with her, we will talk about this."

Emma looks at him defiantly, her body language making it evident that that is very much up for debate.

"We need to talk to my parents. They can get the town together. It shouldn't take us long to find her if she's still in Storybrooke."

"Agreed. But they might have something else on their minds right now. Emma, your parents - Mary Margaret, she's -"

"I know. I'm going to be a big sister." A half-smile appears on her face and it's not much, but it's something.

* * *

When they arrive at the Charmings, Mary Margaret barely waits for them to close the door behind them before pulling Emma into a hug. Killian and David stand around awkwardly, avoiding each other's eyes. 

"So", David says, "That happened. Again." He looks at Killian, and a clear note of hostility enters his voice. "I thought you had a plan to free us from the curse a long time ago?"

Killian clears his throat. "Remember the accident we had on the way back into town? The woman in the road? She somehow pulled me under the curse."

Emma nods. "The same thing happened to me. She made a grand speech about how 'it's all for the best', then she touched my forehead and I was out."

David goes into action. "Then we need to find her, and fast. If she still has this ability, she could put us all back under the curse."

Mary Margaret speaks up for the first time. "What I don't understand is how the curse got broken. Did it happen the same way as with the last one? Emma?"

Emma shrugs. "I don't think it was me. I mean I've been having doubts about my life-" Killian's eyebrows shoot up at hearing this. "-but I definitely wasn't at a point where I was ready to believe in magic or anything like that."

There's a knock at the door, and everybody turns around in unison. David goes to answer it. It's Henry, with Regina in tow. She looks unhappy to be dragged to the Charmings. She's carrying a massive leather-bound book.

"You have to tell them what you found out", Henry states excitedly.

Regina looks around, making sure to glare at each and every one of them in the process. Then she drops the book on the kitchen counter and opens it.

"As soon as I got my memories back, I did some research. I'm pretty sure this was no dark curse." She's met with a round of confused faces. She points at the book, motioning for people to come closer.

"It was an illusion spell. _White magic_." She says the last two words as if they were something unpleasant she found under her shoe. "Amateur work, really. I'm surprised it held up this long. It's not nearly as powerful or elegant as my dark curse. "

"Really, Regina? _Really_?"

Regina continues as if she hadn't heard Emma's interruption. "It relies on the people under the spell being happy, since that is it's primary purpose. As soon as doubt begins to spread and people start questioning their reality, it starts falling apart. Then all it takes is one final push, somebody going just that tiny bit over the edge towards unhappiness, and it all comes crashing down." She shakes her head as if she's personally offended by the shoddy craftsmanship of the spell.

"Why would somebody who wields light magic do this to people?"

"Miss Swan, how about for once you try to listen to me? Then you wouldn't have to interrupt with unnecessary questions. _As I said_ , the purpose of it is to make people happy."

"But if it's just an illusion spell, how did it bring us back here? Shouldn't we still be in the Enchanted Forest?", David throws in.

"That is - actually a very good point. So you do have some brains behind that pretty façade after all. Who would have thought."

" _Regina_ ", Mary Margaret admonishes.

"Hmm, I guess the caster would need to combine it with a portal spell. Which could be possible if they had a magic bean. They could have used the residual-" Regina mumbles on, but Killian stops paying attention to her.

"I don't care how she did it. Let's find her and put an end to this." His words come out harsher than intended. He's still upset about what has been done to them. Especially under the guise of making them happy. He doesn't feel particularly happy at the moment.

"Agreed. Mary Margaret, can you organize a meeting at Granny's in one hour? We need to get as many people looking for her as possible. David, you're with me, since you don't know what she looks like. Regina-"

"I'll see if I can find a locator spell that doesn't require something of hers. Whoever the hell we're talking about."

"Good idea. Kil- Hook-" Their eyes meet and there is a tense moment, until Killian looks away.

"I'll keep an eye out for her as well. See you in one hour." He brushes past her, fleeing out of the door, trying to control his anger and frustration.

* * *

They reconvene at Granny's an hour later without anything to report. The meeting goes less than ideal, the townsfolk bombarding the Charmings with questions. Why are we back here? How did it happen? Who is to blame? A lot of accusations are thrown Regina's way, which David and Mary Margaret try to diffuse. Once they manage to quiet everybody down, they explain what they know so far. Search teams are organized and the grumbling townspeople file out of the diner.

It might have been a mistake to involve them, Killian thinks gloomily as he watches them go. They seem a stone's throw away from taking up torches and pitchforks. The information that the spell was likely cast with the intention to make them happy did not hot have the desired calming effect. It seems that most people actually _were_ happy under the spell and now that that has been taken away, they are more disgruntled than ever. Killian can certainly relate.

Emma leaves the diner without so much as a word to him. He sighs and joins Leroy for their assigned search of the docks.

* * *

Killian arrives back at the house late into the night after a fruitless search. He decided to be extra thorough in order to avoid another awkward encounter with Emma. She clearly needs space to deal with what happened to them and he's willing to give it to her. To a point. Sooner or later, they will have to talk about it. 

He hears a key jingle in the lock and then the door opens. Emma stops short when she sees him. She obviously had the same idea about coming back late to avoid him. She stands awkwardly next to the door, clearly uncertain how to proceed.

"I'll sleep in the guest bedroom", Killian offers.

Emma nods curtly and then quickly walks past him, up the stairs. Killian sighs. He has no idea how to fix this. Assuming Emma even wants to fix it. They were thrown headfirst into a relationship they weren't ready for. Well, he felt ready at the time to give it a try, but he would very much have liked to start at the beginning and get to know each other first, rather than finding himself in the middle of it with a set of fake memories. You know, do it the normal way. But clearly, 'normal' isn't on the menu for them.

At least Emma hasn't thrown him out of the house yet. Which gives him hope that there is still a chance for them, however small it may be.


	13. Chapter 13

Emma lies awake, staring at the ceiling. It was a long and exhausting day, but she is too restless for sleep. It's not only that the woman is still at large, plotting God knows what. It's also her simmering anger at what she did to them. During the day, she could focus on her goal. She put her energy into the search, avoiding any distraction. Now, all the thoughts and feelings she kept well under control so far come crashing down on her.

She closes her eyes and is assaulted by a memory from the previous week, Killian drawing his hand in slow, lazy circles over her stomach in this very bed. The memory is so vivid that she has to open her eyes again to make sure she's alone. _Hook_ , she reminds herself. Captain Hook. That's who he is. The memory brings a whole turmoil of feelings with it that she's not ready to address. It's all fake, anyway. The feelings she has towards him are nothing but a product of the spell. She kissed him in Neverland, but that was just a spur of the moment thing. What she feels now is nothing but a lie, somebody else's idea of the perfect life. 

She thinks of him, alone in the other bedroom, and realizes that she misses him. Clearly, she will need some time to get the fake memories and feelings out of her system. She sighs. New York may have been a lie, but at least is was a quiet life there. Not this confusing mess of a situation. Once they catch the woman responsible, she should just take Henry and move back there. Get away from all of this. Give Henry a chance at a normal life.

* * *

The following day brings more of the same. Search parties, unhappy townsfolk, no actual results. It's getting more and more likely that the mysterious woman has either left town or is hiding somewhere in the woods. They are too vast to search completely, and the search of the forest area closest to town has yielded no results so far.

Emma comes home late in the evening, exhausted and frustrated. She stops short, about to put her key in the door. _Home_. That's still how she thinks of this place. She shakes her head. That's just another leftover from her fake life, nothing more. 

She opens the door and is surprised to hear laughter greeting her. She comes upon Hook and Henry, sitting at the kitchen table, having dinner, joking around. Hook is not wearing the prosthetic hand any longer. Henry is holding his hook, a piece of carrot pierced on the tip. Hook turns to her and his mood sobers instantly, the merriment leaving his eyes. 

"Hey, mom. Killian was just showing me how to use this thing. It's not as easy as it looks." He carefully removes the carrot, and tries to pierce a pea instead, without success.

"Don't play with your food", Emma admonishes, taking the hook from Henry and handing it back to Hook, without meeting his eyes. He reattaches it to the brace without a word.

Hook clears his throat. "Would you like some diner, lo- Emma?"

She very much would like to avoid the awkwardness of a shared dinner, but on the other hand, she's starving. Her stomach wins out over her anxiety and she nods. Hook goes to the stove and fills her a plate. It's astonishing, how he works around his handicap, barely slowed down by it. She'd never really given it much thought. What it means to loose a hand.

Hook puts the plate down in front of her and gives her a half-hearted smile. Emma starts wolfing it down, distracted from the uncomfortable situation by her hunger. Maybe she shouldn't have skipped lunch.

Henry looks back and forth between the two of them. "So, no luck yet, huh?"

Emma looks at him questioningly in between bites. "I mean you haven't found the spellcaster yet", Henry clarifies. Emma nods gloomily. Indeed, they haven't. She thought it would be an easy task. Clearly, she was mistaken.

Henry looks thoughtful. "You know, since the spell created an illusion, do you think she could have changed her appearance?"

"Huh?"

"Well, maybe she made herself look different during the spell. Shouldn't that be possible with an illusion spell? She could be anybody."

Emma's brow furrows while she considers the possibility. "Now that's a scary thought."

"We should watch out for anybody behaving suspiciously. Even if they don't fit the description", Hook says thoughtfully. "You might be on to something there, lad", he adds, smiling at Henry. Henry smiles back at him, looking very pleased with the praise and Emma has a sudden epiphany.

They were happy during the curse. Well, spell, she corrects herself. They didn't have more money or a better life. They were happy because they had each other. That's the simple truth of it. And looking at Henry and Killian now, she realizes that it's within her grasp to have that again. It's a terrifying thought. 

She shakes her head and it's like coming out of a trance, back to reality. What is she thinking? It must be her fake memories taking over. Is she being drawn under the spell again? Hook is a pirate. A fairytale character. He has a hook for a hand, for God's sake. He and Henry are just confused by the effects of the spell. He'll soon enough come out of it and realize that this is not the real him. He'll go back to his ship and continue with his life. Which is what she should do as well. They'll go back to New York and start over, far away from all of this madness.

* * *

The next morning, Emma stumbles into the kitchen, still half asleep. Hook raises an eyebrow at her and she realizes that she's still in her pyjamas. Due to force of habit, she didn't dress before walking down to get coffee. Damn this damnable spell. She thinks about turning around but then decides to just make the damn coffee.

Hook turns around in his seat, facing her while she's busy at the counter.

"Listen, Emma, we need to talk. I know you wanted to wait until we've found the woman, but we have no idea how long that might take."

Emma turns around and crosses her arms. "Fine. Go ahead. Talk." The words sound very harsh to her own ears, making her cringe a little but she doesn't change her demeanour. 

Hook sighs and stands up, then starts to pace from side to side, clearly agitated. "Things- happened while we were under the spell. Things that wouldn't have happened if we had been in full possession of our memories and I-" He scratches nervously behind his ear and Emma wonders how different this man is from the flirtatious pirate she knows all too well. "I just wanted to- I don't know- apologize. I don't want you to feel that I was taking advantage of you, Emma. It was never my intent for things to happen like this."

Emma is surprised by his apology, to say the least. She hadn't even considered blaming Hook for what happened. After all, both of them were under the spell. He hadn't acted of his own volition, just like her. Did he really think that she would suspect him of getting spell-bound _intentionally_? The thought hadn't crossed her mind at all, but now that it was there- would he?

Hook stops pacing and looks her in the eyes, reading her thoughts like an open book. "I wish things had gone differently. I wish I had made a better plan, I don't know, brought you to the town line instead of David in the first place. I wish I hadn't made such a mess of things. But you have to believe me that it was never my intention for things to happen like this. I wanted you to-" He starts stumbling over his words, clearly agitated in his attempt to maker her understand. "-I wanted you to want to be with me, to- choose me- not to be forced to be with me because of some bloody _spell_." He says the last word with a surprising amount of venom.

Emma holds his gaze. She can't detect even the slightest hint of a lie in his words. After a moment, she looks away. She can feel him staring at her, frozen on the spot, waiting for her to say something. 

She takes a deep breath and nods. Then she looks back up and meets his eyes. "I believe you."

A small, surprised smile appears on his face. He steps closer, reaching for her arm, then aborts the gesture as he realizes what he's doing. She's noticed that happening to her as well. She will instinctively reach for him or make a move towards him until her consciousness takes over and reminds her that the last few months were a lie. She suspects it's one of the reasons she's been trying to avoid him so badly. Because it takes a conscious effort to keep her distance. It's like her brain got the memo, but her body hasn't caught up to the new reality quite yet. Bringing some distance between them will be for the best. She debates with herself whether or not to tell him about it. She could just let him know right before they leave, avoiding having to see him sad and pouting until then, or trying to argue her out of it. But that would be a cowardly choice. No, she owes him that much, after everything they've been through.

"After we catch the woman- the, ah, spellcaster-" , she takes a deep breath, "I will take Henry back to New York." She sees his face fall, but continues nonetheless, "You know, away from all this madness. I think he deserves a chance at a quiet, normal life, without something or someone threatening it every other week."

Hook opens his mouth and by the set of his jaw, she can tell he's going to argue with her. Then he abruptly closes it again and breaks eye contact, looking to the floor.

"Have you told the lad yet?"

That's definitely not the response she expected. "No, I've just made the decision myself."

Hook nods and looks back at her. "Can you promise me one thing, love?", there's a quiver in his voice, like he's struggling to control it, "Don't just vanish after it's done. Give me a chance to say goodbye. To both of you."

Again, this is far from what she expected to hear. She nods her assent. She looks at him, really looks at him, and the memories from the last seven months come flooding back into her mind. She takes a deep breath and tries to focus. She needs to get out of there. Needs some distance from him, from all of this, to figure things out on her own. Going to New York is for the best. Henry will understand.


	14. Chapter 14

_A man unwilling to fight for what he wants deserves what he gets._ It's not one of his proudest memories, but he's been unable to shake the sentiment since his encounter with Emma. It feels like he's giving up, when that's the last thing he wants to do. But even though he didn't spend the last couple of months with the real Emma Swan, he still learned a lot about her, including her body language. And he could see perfectly clear that there was no room for argument in that moment, that anything he could have said would have been shot down with force.

He hopes that she might reconsider, that she will see that taking Henry away from his grandparents, his family, can never be the right course of action. Naturally, he also wants her to stay, wants _them _to stay, for selfish reasons. He is ready to admit that the last seven months were the happiest time of his life. It feels like a betrayal, in some ways. To Liam. To Milah. That he could forget about them so easily. To admit that forgetting about them made him a happier man.__

He sighs. She only told him about her plans this morning and already he's managed to worry himself out of his mind. He needs to get a grip on his emotions. He'll need a clear head and a gentle approach if he wants to get anywhere with Emma. He's not quite sure yet what that approach is going to be, exactly, but he's pretty sure that punching his fist into a wall, which is what he feels like doing at the moment, is not going to accomplish much.

He has a strong feeling that Henry is not going to take the news well. Being a teenager, finding out who you are, is a difficult enough job as it is. It surely doesn't help to have an array of conflicting memories floating around in your head. At least Henry choose a different path than Emma after the spell was broken. Rather than ignoring what happened to them and trying to forget about how it made him feel, he seems to have accepted that they are more than strangers to each other now. They have fallen into an easy sort of friendship and Killian is intensely grateful for it. He's not sure he could have survived the cold shoulder treatment from both Henry and Emma.

Speaking of the devil, Emma arrives home, throwing the door closed behind her with force, looking personally offended at the woman's refusal to be found. She spots him and her features turn exasperated, like seeing him is the final straw on a shitty day. He feels his anger flare up and pushes it down, taking a deep breath.

He can already see the answer in her expression, but he asks anyway. "No luck?"

She shakes her head, switching from anger to resignation in the span of a heartbeat. Emma takes a few hesitant steps closer, her body language telling him that he is about to receive some bad news. He braces himself. How much worse than the news from the morning can it be?

"Listen, Ho- Killian." He takes her use of his given name as a small victory. "I think it's better if I move back in with my parents until Henry and I leave for New York. I- I dunno- need some space to think. And it's difficult to do that with you around." She sounds apologetic.

Killian takes another deep breath, trying to calm himself. It's not like he didn't see this coming. He's actually surprised that she stayed as long as she did.

"Nonsense, love. It makes much more sense for you and Henry to stay here. I'll take a room at Granny's."

Emma looks surprised at his offer and his heart constricts painfully in his chest as he considers what kind of man she thinks him to be, to be surprised by such a simple kindness. Maybe she expected him to put up a fight. 

Emma continues her explanation, clearly prepared for more resistance. "It's just that I need some time by myself to think things over. I know it's all a bit of a mess-" She goes on for a bit, but Killian is distracted by something behind her. The window closest to the front door has caught his attention. He can see an eerie blue light wavering by outside. He's no expert by far, but it looks suspiciously like magic. After a moment, Emma realizes that he stopped paying attention and follows his line of sight to the window. 

"Huh", she says, her eyebrows shooting up. Both of them quickly walk over to investigate. They open the door and the light is right in front of them, looking very much like a barrier. 

Emma turns to him questioningly. "What now? Is this some sort of protection spell?"

Killian pokes at it with his index finger and gets zapped for his trouble. "Ouch."

"Poking at it. Brilliant idea." Emma's voice is dripping with sarcasm.

Killian's temper gets the better of him. "I've yet to see you come up with a better plan."

Emma just glares at him defiantly. "Let's find out if it covers all the exits. How is that for a plan?"

They part ways, checking all the windows and the back door. They reconvene back at the front door several minutes later.

"It's everywhere", Emma states and Killian nods.

"Aye. It looks like somebody is trying to trap us in the house."

Emma continues to glare at him, as if all of this is somehow his fault. Then she gets her phone out of her back. 

"I'm calling for backup. Huh."

"What is it, love?" He tries to see the screen over her shoulder.

"I've got a text from an unknown number. _Why do you refuse to be happy?_?" Emma groans, a surprisingly colourful and inventive string of curses leaving her mouth.

"If I ever get my hands on this woman, I am going to strangle her." Her eyes flash dangerously, and Killian takes a cautious step backwards.

"Maybe you could try directing that anger in the form of magic at the barrier around the house?" He suggests hopefully.

Emma gives him a deadly glare that has him unconsciously taking another step backwards. Then she steps closer to the door and spreads her hands out in front of her, closing her eyes. After a moment, he sees a small halo of light around her hands, but that's it. Emma opens her eyes again, glaring at the barrier in frustration.

Emma takes out her phone again. "Plan B. I'm calling David." She holds the phone up high, squinting at it. "Great. Just fan-frickin-tastic. No reception. Apparently magical barriers are a no-go for getting a signal."

She stomps off to do God-knows-what, leaving Killian to stare at the barrier alone. What could the caster possibly think she's accomplishing with this? Does she really believe they will just kiss and make up, simply because they are trapped in the house together? Clearly, she doesn't know the first thing about Emma Swan. Trying to force her into something will only lead to her rejecting it more forcefully. All this little stunt will accomplish is to bring out Emma's stubborn side and ensure that she will get the hell out of town at the first opportunity. He sighs. He wishes, for once, they were in control of their lives instead of always being in the midst of somebody else's scheme.

A few hours later, he's going to the kitchen to get a drink, thinking about their options. Emma is upstairs somewhere, cooling off. Or getting more upset, who knows. He passes by a window when he sees some strange commotion outside. Well, _another_ strange commotion, apart from the psychedelic blue lights around the house. He looks out the window and there's David, waving, trying to get his attention. His mouth is moving as well, but Killian doesn't hear a sound. David motions towards the front door and Killian nods. 

He takes a quick detour to the bottom of the stairs, yelling up. "Swan! Your father is here."

Killian opens the front door to be greeted by the worried faces of Henry, David and Mary Margaret. Henry probably came home and went for help immediately. Smart lad. David gestures with his hands, presumably wanting to know what the hell is going on. Killian shrugs, and tries to convey that they are trapped but fine. He has a sudden flashback to an evening spent playing charades with Emma's parents while they were under the spell. Who would have thought that those skills could actually come in handy one day. Mary Margaret pronounces one word very clearly and on the second try he manages to read it on her lips. _Emma_. He gives her a thumbs up to let her know that Emma is fine. Well, a thumb up, to be precise.

Emma appears behind him, holding a small stack of papers and a pen. Apparently, she already figured out the sound blocking aspect of the barrier. She writes, then holds up the piece of paper for Henry and her parents to see. 

_We're trapped, but unharmed. Probably spellcaster to blame. Can't break barrier. Regina?_

Henry starts searching in his backpack. After a moment, he holds up a pencil and small notebook triumphantly. He hands it over to David, who quickly scribbles something down. He sends Henry off somewhere, likely to get Regina, before he holds it up for them to read.

_Will get Regina. Rest. Food? Water? Air?"_

Killian stares at the note, baffled. He hadn't considered they might be stuck in the house for a long time. Emma curses.

"Of course. If no sound can pass the barrier, then air can't either. How long do you think the air in here will last?"

Killian shrugs helplessly. He doesn't have the faintest idea. It's a pretty big house, so there is bound to be quite the air supply. Emma takes another piece of paper and writes.

_Enough food, water. No idea about air. Find the caster._

She underlines the last sentence for good measure. Mary Margaret and David keep staring at her, clearly hesitant to leave her in her current predicament. Emma makes an impatient shooing motion with her hands that brings a small smirk to Killian's lips. The Charmings reluctantly take their leave. How they intend to find the woman who has eluded them for days, he has no idea.

* * *

A short while later, Emma is fiddling with one of the windows, seriously considering to start throwing stuff at the barrier, when she hears a grunt of pain from the front door. She quickly falls into a jog to get there. She comes upon Killian, sprawled on the floor in front of the door, rubbing his nose. She helps him up.

"What the hell happened?"

"Well, this woman is an expert at illusions, right? So I thought maybe we only think a barrier is there, when actually it's not."

"So what, you closed your eyes and tried to walk through it?" Emma asks incredulously.

Killian looks at her sheepishly. "Aye."

"You're an idiot", Emma states, but there is no bite behind the words. A small smile tugs at her lips and Killian grins back at her. Then a gush of blood starts coming out of his nose.

"Bloody hell", he curses.

"Literally", Emma agrees and grabs a tissue out of her pocket, handing it over to him. "That's what you get for walking into a wall, dumbass." Her tone is light, almost fond. 

She shakes her head and gives him an exasperated smile like she cannot _belief_ his antics and Killian suddenly feels like a huge weight has been lifted of his chest.

He sits down on the floor, leaning against the wall, tilting his head slightly to stop the flow of blood. Emma lowers herself to the floor next to him with a sigh. She looks over at him, then starts to chuckle. He must look quite the fool with the bloodstained tissue under his nose.

"Oi! I wuf onny drying do hep", he says with feigned indignation, his voice muffled by the tissue. Emma actually laughs at that, the first real laugh he's heard from her since the spell was broken. It's a beautiful sound.

The bleeding seems to have stopped and he carefully puts the tissue down. He is starting to feel light-headed, but maybe that's just his mind playing tricks on him, making him think the air is getting thin. Or maybe it's an after-effect from walking headfirst into a magical barrier. He turns to Emma.

"So, which do you think it is, is she lying or just plain incompetent?"

Emma just raises an eyebrow at him, the ghost of a smile still visible.

"You know, that woman claims that she just wants everyone to be happy, but now we're stuck here, slowly running out of air. So either she actually is trying to kill us or she just doesn't know what the hell she's doing."

Emma considers this. "Either way, she's a danger to the town." Emma worries her bottom lip and Killian's eyes are drawn down to her lips. 

"Let's assume she's not trying to kill us." Killian's eyebrows shoot up, clearly doubtful of her assumption. "Do you think there's something specific we need to do in order to get out of here?"

"Like what?"

"I dunno", Emma looks straight ahead, clears her throat and declares, "I'm happy."

Both of them turn to look out the window, but the blue light doesn't change.

"To be fair, you didn't sound very convinced there", Killian says, failing to keep the merriment out of his voice. He knows he should be more concerned about their situation, but it feels like Emma is warming up to him for the first time since the spell broke and he is having trouble stopping the smile that insist on forming on his face every time he looks at her.

Emma glares at him, but there's no conviction behind it. She sighs, then stands up, reaching out her hand to help him up. He takes it and comes to his feet a little unsteadily.

"You should get cleaned up. I'll wait for Regina by the front door. Maybe we can break the barrier together. If I manage to get my magic working." 

She sounds so unsure and self-deprecating that he is hit by an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort her. He realizes with a start that she didn't let go of his hand after helping him up. Emma must have realized it in the same moment, because she releases his hand and steps away quickly. 

He rubs his hand over his face, suddenly feeling very tired. It comes away bloody. Right, he should get that cleaned up. He looks at Emma one more time, standing by the front door, her back to him and her shoulders tense, then he makes his way to the bathroom.


	15. Chapter 15

**_2 months ago_ **

Emma exhales a deep breath and leans back further into Killian's embrace. They are in a small forest clearing, sitting on a small blanket. Killian is leaning against a fallen tree and she is leaning against him. He surprised her with the spontaneous picnic in the forest, going so far as to prepare a selection of her favourite dishes. She's not sure how she got so lucky. She sighs contently, turning her head slightly and snuggling closer to her husband.

The cloudy day suddenly brightens, the afternoon sunlight illuminating the clearing beautifully. She can hear the steady beat of Killian's heart and feel the heat radiating off his body. It's such a perfect moment, it's almost appalling. She closes her eyes and revels in it.

When she speaks, she's taken aback by the dreamy note in her own voice. "Don't you wish it could be like this, just like this, forever?"

Killian hums, actually considering the rhetorical question.

"No."

She moves her head back a little in order to look him in the eye, confused by his reply. "No?"

"No. That would mean we never get to see Henry grow into the wonderful man he's going to be one day. It would mean I never get to yell at the damn kids to stop hover-boarding on the pavement. It would mean I never get to see how beautiful you're going to look with white hair. I intend to grow old with you, Emma Swan. So, no, as serene and breathtakingly beautiful as this moment might be, I do not wish to be stuck in it forever."

She smiles up at him, stunned by his words and the conviction in his voice. "You're such a hopeless romantic", she teases.

He moves his hand up to softly brush a strand of hair aside that has fallen into her face. "Takes one to know one", he teases back. His tone is light, but she can hear the devotion behind his words. She wonders again what she did right to deserve this man. He cups her face with his hand and moves in slowly for a kiss. It starts chaste, but quickly turns more urgent, more passionate. After a moment he pulls back, smiling down at her wickedly. Both of them are breathing heavily. Emma has no trouble at all reading the intent in his eyes.

"What, here?", she says doubtfully.

Instead of replying, Killian starts kissing a line down her neck, his hand sneaking under her shirt to cup her breast. Emma takes in a sharp breath and closes her eyes.

He talks to her in between kisses, his voice deep and husky. "See, love? Now, wouldn't it have been a shame never to move on to _this_ moment?"

He lightly strokes his thumb over her nipple and Emma feels a jolt of electricity go through her. She marvels how, after all this time, he can still elicit this reaction in her with a simple touch. She concedes that he might have a point about time moving forward before her thoughts become otherwise occupied.

* * *

**_Present Day_**

Regina appears in a puff of angry purple smoke. Well, the smoke is not angry _per se_ , but Emma has come to associate it with Regina, for whom angry seems to be the default setting. Right now, she's giving Emma a disdainful look which clearly communicates _what did you get yourself into now?_ , as if Emma were a kitten that needs to be rescued from a tree. 

Emma tries her best not to glare at Regina. After all, she came to help. Emma makes an impatient motion with her hand. _Can we move this along already?_. Regina nods, then directs a full blast of magic at the barrier. Emma tries to concentrate on her own magic, but again she cannot focus it enough to actually send it against the barrier. She gives up, frustrated with herself. 

Instead, she inspects the barrier for any signs of weakening. There are no cracks she can see, no dimming of the blue light. On the contrary, where Regina's magic hits the barrier, the blue light seems to be getting stronger, brighter. It's as if the barrier absorbs the magic. Regina must have come to the same conclusion, because she stops her onslaught and narrows her eyes at the barrier. 

Regina glares at the blue light, looking a tad more angry than usual. She probably didn't expect the spellcaster's magic to be able to hold up against her own. Regina mimes the opening of a book, which Emma interprets to mean that she will do some research. She nods, and Regina disappears in another puff of _definitely_ angry purple smoke.

Emma tiredly rubs her hand over her eyes. This is _exactly_ what she was trying to avoid. Just when she decided that the tension in the house was getting too much, they had to get stuck here together. Damn that meddling woman. Who did she think she was, messing with people's lives like this? She should use this opportunity to skip town, because God help her if Emma finds her.

Hook reappears, thankfully having cleaned the blood off his face. She joked about it, but the sight had actually been quite unsettling. Which is strange, considering that normally she's not queasy when it comes to the sight of blood. He opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it again. He starts scratching behind his ear, a clear sign that he's nervous about something.

"Out with it", she says impatiently.

"Um. I had another idea what might break the barrier. But you're not going to like it."

"If it will set us free, I'm willing to consider almost anything at this point", Emma grumbles.

Hook gives her a smile which would have been seductive, had it not been quite so tainted with sadness. Then he taps his index finger to his lips, instantly bringing her thoughts to their kiss in Neverland.

Emma is torn. On the one hand, she _abhors_ being forced to do something by this horrible woman yet again. It makes her feel like a puppet on strings and if there is something that Emma absolutely cannot stand it's the feeling that she's not in control of her life. On the other hand, it's just a kiss. It's not like they haven't done this dozens of times before. And if that's their ticket out of here, well, she's willing to make the sacrifice. 

Before she has a chance to change her mind, Emma steps forward and places a quick kiss to Hook's lips. It only lasts a second, it's nothing more than a chaste peck on the lips, really. Hook's eyes still widen in surprise. He clearly did not expect her to actually kiss him. Emma turns to look out the window, but the blue light continues shimmering just as brightly as before. Dammit.

She turns back to Hook, who is looking at her speculatively. She sighs, then grabs him by the collar of his shirt and kisses him properly. She fuels all of her anger, her frustration and, yes, her desire, into it, slowly moving him backwards until his back hits the wall. In the first instant, he's passive, completely taken by surprise, the next, he's giving as good as he gets, his hand sliding up her back until it comes to rest at the base of her neck.

She gets lost in the feeling for a minute. It's strangely familiar and yet completely novel. Her right hand lets go of his collar and moves up to entangle itself in his hair. Hook makes a desperate noise somewhere between a moan and a groan that goes straight to her very core. She shudders. Then she suddenly remembers why they are doing this in the first place and pulls back. They are both breathing heavily. Hook is leaning against the wall, while Emma moves her hand from his collar to support herself against his chest.

She takes a deep breath to calm herself, then she turns to look out the window once more. The blue light is as strong as ever, mocking her. It might even be glowing a little brighter, but that could be her imagination. 

" _Goddammit_ ", she curses, "I was sure that would work."

She turns her attention back to Hook. His gaze is still on her lips, a goofy smile on his face. She wants to punch him. Or maybe kiss him again. Or both. She has the sudden urge to run, to get as much distance between them as possible, but she can't because they're stuck in the damn house together. She makes a frustrated noise and punches his chest. She knows it's not his fault, but there's nobody else around to focus her anger on.

"Hey", he says softly, no hint of her anger reflected in his words. He moves his hand up to tug an errant stray of hair back behind her ear. It's an achingly familiar gesture. 

"We'll figure this out. We'll break out of here or Regina will break the barrier from the outside. Something or other will work. I have yet to see you fail."

Some of her anger leaves her in a rush at his words. It's not that she doesn't enjoy his company. Or kissing him, for that matter. It's just that she needs some space, and time, to figure out what part of her feelings are a construct of the spell and what's really her. If she'll ever be able to untangle that mess, that is. She has no idea where they stand. She'll take part of the blame on that, seeing as she tried to avoid talking about it at all cost.

And he's being so insufferably understanding and considerate all the time, giving her no chance to actually have a fight with him. Which she knows is a petty thought, but somehow she feels an angry, irritated Captain Hook would be easier to deal with than whatever this is. Did the last months change him so much? Or was this sensitive guy always hiding behind the flirtatious bravado?

She pinches the bridge of her nose and takes a deep breath. This is certainly not the time to delve into the inner workings of Hook's psyche. There are more pressing matters. Like getting out of the house and tracking down the damn spellcaster.

"Okay. Let's brainstorm. What else could possibly trigger the barrier to go down? Assuming a trigger even exists."

She sees something change in Hook's expression even though he quickly masks it. Emma glares at him for good measure, even though he didn't actually voice any suggestion.

"Yeah, we're not doing _that_."

"Love, I didn't even-"

She hushes him with a wave of her hand. She takes out her phone again, but there are no further text messages after the initial one. Which makes sense, seeing as she doesn't have a damn signal. While staring at the phone, a thought strikes her. She looks up at Hook.

"Did you check your phone?"

He raises an eyebrow and by the slightly guilty expression on his face, she can already tell that the thought hadn't occurred to him. She waits for him to move but he just continues staring at her.

"Well, could you do it _now_?", she prompts, impatient.

His hand comes up to scratch behind his ear and he looks for all the world like a lost puppy dog and _God_ she needs to get a grip and get the hell out of here fast.

"I may have temporarily misplaced the device."

"You lost your phone?"

"Um. I'm sure it's around here somewhere."

He walks off, presumably in search of his phone and Emma uses the moment to close her eyes and collect her thoughts. She can do this. They'll find a way out. They'll catch the damn woman and then she and Henry will go back to New York and bring some normality into their lives.

"Huh", she hears from the kitchen area and makes her way over there. Hook apparently found his phone, as he's currently staring at the screen. 

"What's it say?", Emma asks, exasperated. She's really tired of all the little games this woman is playing.

" _The truth will set you free_."

"Fan-frickin-tastic. What's that even supposed to mean?"

Hook hums non-committally, apparently deep in thought. Emma comes to stand next to him, looking at the screen as if it will reveal more information if she just glares at it hard enough.


	16. Chapter 16

**_2 months ago_ **  


Emma lifts her head slightly and opens one eye. She's lying on her stomach, the sheet tangled in her legs, her arm resting on Killian's stomach. Killian looks way too energetic this early in the morning. He gives her a bright smile and Emma groans and closes her eye again.

Killian covers her hand on his stomach with his right and entwines their fingers. Emma scoots a little closer, nudging him with her nose.

"Jus' five mo' min'es", she mumbles into his shoulder.

Killian grins and kisses the top of her head. There are very few things in this world that are more adorable than Emma Swan in the morning.

"That's what you said fifteen minutes ago, love."

"An' I meant it."

Killian chuckles. "That makes no sense whatsoever."

"So's your face", Emma grumbles good-naturedly, then buries her head back in the pillow.

Killian shakes his head. Still smiling fondly, he makes his way downstairs. Maybe he can lure her out of bed with the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

**_Present Day_ **

It's been five days and Killian is slowly losing his mind. Five days they are stuck in the bloody house already. At some point, Emma started behaving liked a caged wildcat, glaring at him venomously whenever he ventured in her proximity.

On the second day of their imprisonment, they got a visit from Henry, who, using their established form of communication, told them that he did the maths and the house should hold enough air for two people for roughly two weeks. Killian, at the time, thought that there was no way they would be stuck in here that long. After he read the text message, he had an inkling what the woman wanted them to do.

Every time he'd tried to do it, though, Emma had evaded him. Which was quite the feat, given that they were trapped in an enclosed space together. But somehow, she could always sense when he wanted to utter the words and made a run for it. She had taken to wearing headphones, listening to music. Otherwise he might have been tempted, at this point, to just yell it at the house in general and be done with it.

He always knew she was a stubborn lass but this is really taking things too far. There's no reason for them to be stuck in this house any longer. He is fairly certain that they could be free in the time it takes to utter a few sentences. If only Emma agreed to this assessment. He decides to take action. He's given Emma her space in the last few days, waiting for her to approach him, to talk to him, but clearly that's not going to happen.

He strides up the stairs, his frustration, which has been slowly building up during the previous days, finally morphing into anger. Emma acts as if all of this is somehow his fault, even though he is just as much of a victim as she is. Upset as he is, he still knocks on the bedroom door instead of just bursting in. There's no reply, not that he was expecting any. After a moment, he slowly opens the door.

Emma is lying on top of the sheets, fully clothed, her eyes closed, presumably listening to music, judging by the headphones on her ears. She looks very much like a brooding teenager and in spite of his anger, a small smile appears on his face. How does she manage it? He came in here looking for a fight, but looking at her now, all he wants to do is give her a hug.

Emma feigns ignorance, but he can tell from the tension in her shoulders alone that she is well aware of his presence. He crosses his arms, deciding to wait. As if she somehow realizes that he's not going to go away this time, her eyes open and she regards him with an icy glare. He's used to it by now, so he barely flinches. 

Emma sits up and takes off the headphones, regarding him wearily. Maybe she also reached the end of her rope. Killian sits down on the opposite end of the bed, seizing her up.

"Listen, Emma." Her eyes flash dangerously, the warning clear as day. He continues nonetheless. "I know things haven't quite worked out the way either of us envisioned, but there is something that you need to know. There is something I was quite certain of, even before the spell. Our lives may have been an illusion, but the way I feel about you has never changed. Emma, I-"

"No", she yells at him, jumping off the bed. "I won't allow some stranger to dictate the course of my relationships." She starts pacing back and forth, obviously agitated. "I'm sick and tired of this woman forcing everybody to live the life she thinks best!" She steps closer and for a split-second he thinks she's going to shove him again. There's a fire burning in her eyes and he knows he probably should not find it hot, but that ship has sailed long ago.

Emma gestures wildly, the volume of her words rising constantly. "I'm not somebody's puppet to play with as they please. I make my own decisions. And if that means I'll have to suffocate in this damn house then SO BE IT." 

She looks at him with an, in his humble opinion, adorable expression of surprise, clearly taken aback by her own outburst. She's breathing heavily, her hands clenched to fists at her sides, a blush creeping up her neck. It seems to him like the emerald of her eyes is almost pulsing with the intensity of her glare. She's probably more angry than he has ever seen her, but in spite of it, or maybe because of it, she's breathtakingly beautiful.

"I love you", he finishes his earlier speech, a soft smile on his lips. Emma's eyes widen and she takes a small step backwards. It's not the first time he said the words to her, but the first time he did it in full possession of his memories.

There's an ear-splitting noise from all around them. It reminds Killian of a huge wave crashing down, burying everything in it's wake. Both of them try to cover their ears. The sound is almost painful in it's intensity, then it vanishes suddenly, leaving them in utter silence. They turn to look out the window in unison. The barrier is still there, much to their dismay. But the bright, pulsating light has faded to a lighter colour. There are visible cracks running through the barrier of light.

Killian tries not to look too smug about figuring out the key to unlocking their cage, seeing as Emma still looks like she's seconds away from murdering somebody. Since he's the only one in her vicinity that spells bad news for him.

"No", Emma states, matter-of-factly.

"No?", Killian echoes, confused.

"No, you don't", Emma clarifies. Killian's brow furrows. "You have had some memories and- and- experiences forced on you and you're confused. But that will all clear up in no time and then you can go back to pillaging and plundering or whatever it is you normally do."

Her tone is angry, but he can hear the underlying hurt and fear. A lot he didn't understand about Emma's behaviour since the spell broke suddenly clicks into place. He tries, and fails, not to be hurt by her words.

"Emma", he lifts his hand to her shoulder in a placating gesture, but Emma flinches away from him. "Love. I fell for you a long time before the spell. Maybe as far back as our first conversation, when you were having none of my bullshit and tied me to that bloody tree." He smiles at the memory. "I'm not confused. I know exactly how I feel about you."

He watches a multitude of emotions flicker over her face. Shock, anger, confusion. Hope, unless he conjured that one up from his imagination. After a moment, she settles on anger.

"This is ridiculous. I won't be blackmailed into some grand declaration of my feelings. I'll take the damn house down brick by brick if I have to, but I'm getting out of here!" She's almost yelling at this point, her hands again clenched to fists by her side. Killian spots a small white halo appear around each hand. The air is suddenly charged, and he can feel the magic emanating from her, like a coming storm.

"Emma, calm down."

"I am calm!", she yells, "I am _perfectly_ calm! The world has gone insane!" She's advancing on him with every word, and all he can do is back away slowly until his back hits the wall. He knows it's useless to protest, it's like arguing with the tide not to sweep him away.

"Seven months we spent under that spell! Seven months! How does something like that even happen? And now this! What does she think we are, characters in a story that she can just do to whatever she pleases? _You_ may be a character from a fairytale, but I most certainly am not!" That point is arguable, but he knows better than to contradict her at the moment.

The air hums with a static energy that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. The light around her hands intensifies and he thinks he can actually hear the magic build up, a sizzling, crackling sound. There's a part of his brain that screams at him to run, because this is going to end badly. He chooses to ignore it and instead tries to project a calm energy. 

"Emma-"

"I am in control!", she shouts at him, only inches from his face, and he has just enough time to reflect that it is quite the ironic statement, before the white light bursts outwards from her hands, illuminating the whole room, knocking him out cold once more.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 125+ comments & 500+ kudos! You're all amazing, kind souls who deserve to be rewarded. Have a chapter!

The first thing Killian becomes aware of is Emma's voice. Even though he cannot make out the words, she sounds panicked and he wants nothing more than to comfort her. But everything is black and he can't find her.

The second thing Killian becomes aware of is a pounding headache the likes of which he has never experienced before. Well, maybe that one time in Arendelle when Long John insinuated that he could drink him under the table.

The third thing he becomes aware of is the iron taste of blood in his mouth. The fog in his head clears a little and he starts to make out some of Emma's words.

"Killian. Wake up. Please, wake up. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Killian, please." She's definitely panicked now and he wants to reach out and soothe her, but he's not sure he can. He opts for something easier and tries to open his eyes.

He's greeted with a blurry vision of Emma leaning above him, filling his entire field of vision. Relief flashes over her features.

"Killian! Thank God. Can you hear me?"

He groans and tries to lift his head, which results in the pain increasing tenfold.

"Ow", he says and carefully puts his head back down and closes his eyes again. He notices for the first time that Emma's hand is on his face, her thumb slowly stroking over his cheek. It feels nice. When the pain in his head has thundered down to a bearable level, he opens his eyes once more, to find Emma still hovering anxiously above him.

He reaches out his hand to touch his forehead because there's something wet there. He brings his hand in front of his eyes and stares at it in confusion. He thought it was blood, but it's colourless. He looks up and realizes that it's a tear drop. Emma is crying.

Things become sharper around the edges again and he lifts up his hand to stroke a tear drop on her cheek away with his thumb. _Emma is crying_. 

She makes a relieved half-sob half-chuckle sound at his gesture, then carefully helps him to sit up and lean against the wall. His head protests against the movement but he ignores it. There's still the matter of the strange taste in his mouth. He brings his hand to his lips, touching the side of his index finger to his tongue. Much like he expected, it comes away bloody. Emma stares at it, her eyes widening in shock.

"Hey", he croaks, his voice a little hoarse. Emma doesn't react but continues to stare at the small spot of blood on his hand. He moves his hand to her face again and gently lifts up her chin, so that their eyes meet.

"It's fine, l- love. I think I just bit my tongue on the way down. N- Nothing to worry about. I'm fine." And he means it. He's fine. Apart from the pounding headache and the feeling that he might throw up if he tried to stand, he's just dandy.

Emma scrutinizes him, her gaze flitting over his body as if to check for any other hidden injuries. He lifts up his hooked left arm. "Well, apart from the missing hand, but that could be a pre-existing condition." It's a poor attempt at humour, but he is rewarded with another teary half-chuckle from Emma.

"Hey", he says again, softly, moving his hand from her face down to her neck, drawing her closer, inviting her to rest her head on his shoulder. She follows easily, her head a warm and solid weight on his shoulder. Her arms sneak around him, enveloping him in a tight embrace. She's practically sitting in his lap at this point. He draws his arms around her as well. He can feel the tension running through her, in spite of everything, she's still fighting to contain her emotions.

"Hey", he whispers a third time, unsure what else to say. 

Emma draws in a shuddering breath. "I thought I'd lost you. I'm sorry. I love you." The last words are barely audible, mumbled into his neck. He might suspect that he imagined them, were it not for the thunderous noise following the declaration. It's so loud that for a moment he thinks the house will come down around them, but then there's silence once more.

* * *

The first thing they do, after they've confirmed that the barrier is indeed down, is to call Henry. The second call goes to Emma's parents. They have a heartfelt reunion in front of the house, because both of them needed some fresh air, badly. Emma is adamant about carting him off to the hospital to have him checked out and the whole party insists on coming along. Whale raises an eyebrow at the group of four people accompanying one patient but doesn't comment.

Killian is diagnosed with a mild concussion. Whale tells him with a humourless grin that he really should cut down on getting knocked unconscious in the future if he doesn't want to risk permanent damage. Killian thanks him for his sound medial advice, sarcasm oozing from every word. As if it were his fault that people keep knocking him out.

After Whale makes his exit, grumbling something unintelligible, Emma enters the hospital room, alone, looking chagrined. She's much more composed. Her slightly puffy eyes are the only give-away of her emotional state. She takes a deep breath as if to brace herself for what comes next. 

"I'm really sorry about what happened earlier. I hurt you and it could have ended far worse than it did. We got lucky. I lost control and as much as I'd like to say it's never going to happen again, that's not a promise I can make-"

"Emma", he interrupts, not liking at all where this is going. A bad feeling settles in his stomach. He jumps up from the bed he was sitting on. Too quickly, as it turns out, because he suddenly feels dizzy and has to take a moment to collect himself.

"This has brought home to me again how dangerous magic really is. I can't risk hurting somebody I love ever again. Outside of the town line there's no magic and that's where I need to be, for everybody's safety."

He takes a step towards her and she takes a step backwards. He looks at her helplessly. "Emma, please, listen to me-"

"But first I'm going to find this spellcaster and end her reign over this town." Her tone is icy. He can literally see her demeanour change before his eyes, her shoulders square up, her stance changes and the fire returns to her eyes. It's not directed at him, but it's a little scary nonetheless. She looked guilty and slightly sad a moment ago, but now she's back to the safer territory of anger-fuelled action. 

He sighs. "Let me at least come with you. That woman is dangerous."

Emma shakes her head vehemently. "You need to rest. I'll take my parents as back-up."

"How do you even plan to find her? She's eluded us so far."

"I'll figure something out. This ends today." There's steel in her voice and body language he's come to know very well. It's part of what he loves about her, her will, her strength, her unbreakable spirit. Although he may sometimes wish for it to be just a tiny bit bendable.

She turns around and storms out of the room. Killian stares after her, unsure if they again took one step forward just to take two steps back, _I can't risk hurting somebody I love ever again_ replaying in his head. 

* * *

Regina leans over her desk, glaring at the stack of paperwork in front of her. She's pretty sure by now that 'world without magic' is a misnomer. There's some dark magic at work here, creating a never-ending stack of papers for her to look at and mindless problems demanding her attention. How did this even happen? She created this town, for crying out loud. She's pretty sure the dark curse didn't include any mention of mind-numbingly boring bureaucracy.

Emma bursts through the door to her office, radiating righteous anger, and Regina immediately regrets wishing for a distraction from her current task. This is not what she had in mind.

"It's good to see you out and about", she greets the saviour, only the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice. She is, indeed, happy that Emma made it out of the house, but she would have preferred if one of the countless things she had tried during the last days had freed her. All that work was for nothing now. And who knows, probably Emma and her parents think that she didn't actually try.

"I need your help." Emma has that tone in her voice that promises bad things to come for anybody standing in her way. Regina raises an eyebrow, unimpressed by her shenanigans.

"The time for games is over. I need to locate this spellcaster." The set of her jaw alone tells Regina that Emma will not be argued with. Luckily, she can actually be of assistance in this case.

"I think I've found something that can help you. It's a type of locator spell used to find magical beings. All you have to do is focus on the person you want to find and the feelings they evoke in you. Naturally, this kind of touchy-feely spell can only be cast by a wielder of light magic, which is why I needed to wait for you before trying it out."

"Let's do it", Emma agrees eagerly. 

"Well, it's not that easy-"

"Let me guess", Emma interrupts her, exasperated, "We need some weird ingredient we don't have, like dragon tears or gorilla feathers."

Regina narrows her eyes, her train of thought momentarily derailed. "Gorillas don't have feathers."

"Exactly."

Regina sighs, already reconsidering her earlier assessment that she's happy that Emma has left her confinement. "Right. The spell doesn't require any ingredients as such. It requires the caster to relinquish all negative emotion for the span of a day."

"What?", Emma says, sounding genuinely shocked, "What kind of a price is that?"

"Indeed. Light magic. It's revolting", Regina agrees.

"So, what? This can help me find her, but when I do I'll just-", Emma's face scrunches up adorably as a look of disgust passes over it, "want to give her a hug?"

Regina raises an eyebrow, her tone just a little gleeful. "That's what you get when you dabble in light magic, I'm afraid."

Emma glares at her in response. "Fine. Let's do it. David and Mary Margaret will just have to be the ones to take her down."

* * *

A short phone call later, they're all assembled in Regina's office. All, except for Hook, who is still in the hospital, and Henry, who decided to stay with him. Emma isn't sure how she feels about that. There are other things she needs to focus on, anyway. First and foremost, this locator spell that will apparently turn her into a happy-go-lucky version of herself. She's definitely having second thoughts about that. 

Regina walked her through the motions of the spell and it seems easy enough. The main part is focussing on the way the person you are seeking makes you feel at the moment. She has some pretty strong feelings in regards to that damnable woman, so that shouldn't be a problem. She's more concerned about what will happen afterwards. Will she still be herself? Will she act as if under the influence of a drug? Will she tell people things she should better keep to herself? What if the effects don't disappear after a day as suggested by Regina's research?

She takes a deep breath and decides to go through with it anyway. That woman has wreaked enough havoc as it is, there is no telling what she will come up with next. She has to be stopped. Emma turns to Mary Margaret, who has regarded her with worried eyes ever since she laid out her plan.

"Listen, I understand completely if you don't want to be involved in this, considering your -um- condition." There's another thing she hasn't given much thought to. She's going to be a big sister. "David and I have this under control." David nods, but Mary Margaret just glares the both of them down.

"Nonsense. You need our help and we will be there for you. Always. Both of us." David opens his mouth as if to argue, but Mary Margaret narrows her eyes and he wisely shuts it again.

Mary Margaret's expression turns soft as she addresses Emma. "You don't have to do this, you know. We will find another way. There's no telling what this spell will do to you."

Emma nods. She isn't very convinced herself either, but she doesn't really see an alternative. "We've been trying to find her by other means for days and what do we have to show for it? No, I need to do this. It'll be fine. I'll be fine.

She turns to Regina, resolve masking her doubts. "Let's do this." Regina nods once in response, making a hand movement indicating _get on with it, then_.

Emma closes her eyes as instructed and focusses. She thinks about how happy she was under the spell. How she had everything, everything she could ever have wished for. And how it had all been taken away from her again, as usual. She focusses on the betrayal she felt, the anger, the hurt. She thinks about how she wants nothing more than to find that woman and yell to her face until she feels better.

She opens her eyes again, a smile on her face. "I know exactly where she is." She looks at the others, triumph in her eyes. Mary Margaret steps forward hesitantly.

"How do feel, Emma?"

Emma gives her a dazzling smile. "Never been better." She steps forward and envelops Mary Margaret in a tight embrace. After a moment, she steps back again and looks at her mother, adoration in her eyes. "I love you, mom", she states as if this is something she tells her every day, then turns around and walks out of Regina's office.

Mary Margaret just stands there, blinking. Regina walks past her, smirking. "Well, this should be interesting to watch." She follows Emma out the door, the Charmings close on her heels.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's ALIVE!" _*stands next to fic with a manic glint in her eyes, holding jumper cables while sparks fly and thunder roars in the distance*_
> 
> Yeah, so, I moved house and went on holiday and some other things, but now I have returned and this will have regular updates again from now on, I promise.

Emma feels good. Fantastic, even. She finally knows where the woman is hiding. In fact, she is on her way there right now. She will have a talk with her and they will clear all of this up in no time.

Regina catches up with her, her stride regal as ever.

"So, where are we going?" She sounds doubtful, probably regretting her decision to get involved in this venture already.

Emma stops short and turns to her, smiling. Regina intuitively takes a small step backwards, then catches herself.

"Listen, Regina, I'm sorry I haven't shown more appreciation for your efforts over the past week to free Killian and me. Because I am grateful."

Regina just stares at her, eyes wide with surprise.

"I've also neglected to tell you how grateful I am that you were the one who took Henry in. I know the circumstances weren't ideal, but then, what is? I know you love him and that you would do anything in your power to protect him and that's all anyone could ever ask."

She steps forward and embraces Regina, who stands frozen in place. After a moment, Emma releases her and continues on her original path. Regina remains frozen on the spot, gaping after her.

Mary Margaret walks past, raising an amused eyebrow at the sight of a gobsmacked Regina, but refraining from commenting.

* * *

"Are you sure this is the right way? I'm pretty sure there's nothing out here." David looks around uneasily. They followed Emma into the forest, to the middle of nowhere, as far as he is concerned. There should be nothing out here.

Emma turns around and gives him a reassuring smile. "Trust me." There's conviction in her voice and something else. She sounds happy. Carefree. David sighs. He wishes, for a moment, to live in a world where his daughter doesn't have to be under the influence of some spell or other in order to be content. It's his job to make that happen and he failed. The circumstances didn't leave him much choice, but still he feels that he failed Emma in some vital way.

Emma stops and David spots the small cottage ahead of them. He's never seen it before. He's not sure if he ever passed this exact spot in the woods. Has it always been there?

"At least it's not made of gingerbread." Mary Margaret comments, looking around nervously.

Emma turns around to face them. "I think it's best if I go in alone."

"The hell you are." David tries to reign his emotions in. He knows he can sometimes be a little overprotective when it comes to Emma.

She just smiles at him. "There's a much higher chance she'll be cooperative if I go alone. I'm sure this can be resolved without a fight if I can just talk to her." She gives a pointed look at the sword in his hand and the bow in Mary Margaret's. "There is no need for violence."

Regina chuckles. "I very much doubt we can just talk this out over tea and biscuits. She threatened the town. Remember how she intentionally crashed a car with your father and boyfriend in it?"

"The important thing is that nobody got seriously injured. All the interactions we had with her so far suggest that her intention is to do good rather than evil."

"Okay, who are you and what have you done to my daughter?" Mary Margaret says, sounding worried.

Emma gives her a big smile. When this is over, she'll probably have some sore muscles in her face from all this exercise.

"I am the same person I've always been. I just see a little clearer now."

"My apologies", Regina pipes up. Adding, when everybody turns to her, "If I had known how creepy this would turn out, I'd have found another way."

"Are you planning to stand there and argue all day, or are you coming in?" Unnoticed by them, a tall woman has appeared in the small doorway of the cottage. She's leaning against the frame, her arms crossed in front of her. She looks like she's trying very hard to appear unperturbed by their arrival.

David raises his sword, just as Emma turns to her with a smile. "We just want to talk."

Even from the distance, David can see the woman raise a sceptical eyebrow at that statement.

Emma walks towards her without hesitation and David hurries to follow.

The woman vanishes back inside the cottage and the four of them enter as well. David keeps his sword ready, prepared for an attack at any moment. Looking at the size of the room, a smaller weapon might have been a better choice though.

The cottage is rather Spartan. The space is small, with barely enough room for a tiny bed, a modest table and a smallish fireplace. All in all, it's pretty crowded with five people. The woman sits down in the only chair, her arms crossed defensively in front of her, her eyes narrowed in a glare.

"So, you found me", she states the obvious.

"Listen, we just want to understand why you did the things you did. And for you to understand that you need to stop whatever it is you're trying to do."

The woman makes an unamused chuckle. "I told you everything you need to know the first time we met. There's nothing more to discuss." Her voice carries such a strong note of dismissal that Emma almost takes a step toward the door.

"You said you wanted to make people happy. Why?"

"Why? That's what you want to know? How somebody's motive could possibly be to make other's happy?" Her voice is dripping with disdain. 

"You hurt a lot of people."

The woman suddenly stands up, angrily gesturing in Emma's direction. David raises his sword again at the sudden movement.

"Did I? Wasn't it rather _you_ who hurt those people by breaking my spell? Tell me, Emma, weren't you happy under the spell? Wasn't everybody happy?"

Emma remains calm in the face of her anger. "Yes. But it wasn't real." Her voice carries none of the bitterness that would have accompanied this statement only hours earlier.

The woman is just getting started. "Oh please. What's _real_? What would you have said to somebody five years ago who told you that fairy tales are real, hm? That you are the daughter of Prince Charming and Snow White? No, reality is a concept we create. And if the world happens to be a terrible place, then it is our job to create a different reality." There's a strange note to her voice, almost like guilt.

"Not at the cost of lying to ourselves about who we really are", Regina jumps in.

The woman turns to her, sneering. " _Really_? That's rich, coming from you. I thought you, more than anybody else, would appreciate the chance to start over with a clean slate."

Regina straightens, meeting the woman's gaze head on. "Sure, that would be a nice way out, wouldn't it? Just forget about all the terrible things that I've done. Live a happy life. But that wouldn't be fair to all the people I've hurt, all the lives I've destroyed. I need to atone for those sins, and in order to do that, I need to remember."

Both David and Mary Margaret turn to her, surprised and impressed.

Regina scoffs at them, breaking the mood. "Oh, don't give me that look." There's a blush creeping up her neck and she quickly turns to the woman to get the focus back on her. "Either way this town has decided that we don't want your help. So, you will stop what you're doing or we will make you stop."

The woman smirks at her, no trace of humour on her face. "Oh, really? What are you going to do? Lock me up? Battle it out right here?" She raises her eyebrows in a clear challenge.

Emma steps in between the two, which is not an easy task in the cramped space. "There is absolutely no need for violence. I'm sure we can resolve this in a discussion." Regina gives an amused chuckle which she quickly covers by clearing her throat when Emma turns around to look at her.

Emma turns back to the woman, her voice filled with compassion.

"I get where you're coming from. It's easy to look at the world and think 'something needs to change'. But you need to understand that in order to be happy, people need to feel in control of their lives, need to think that they are the ones deciding their fates. You took that away from us. Even under the spell, there was always this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something is not quite as it should be. You can't force people to be happy. You have to let them find a way to be happy on their own."

The woman smirks at her. "And you're the expert, huh? Of being happy on your own?"

Emma looks momentarily taken aback by this.

"Says the woman living alone in a cottage in the woods", comes the snide reply from Regina.

The woman turns back to Regina, her anger flaring up again. "You don't know the first thing about me. _You_ have no right to judge me."

Emma raises her hands up in a placating gesture. "We're not going to get anywhere like this." She turns to the rest of her party. "Please give me ten minutes to talk to her alone."

"No way", David shoots back immediately.

"Dad, please. I know what I'm doing. The spell didn't knock the common sense out of me" she says with a smile. "Arguable", Regina mumbles, before she follows Emma's wishes and leaves the cottage.

David gives her a worried look, then nods and follows Regina's example. Snow looks torn. After a moment, she also turns to the door.

"We'll be right outside. Just call if you need help." Emma smiles at her encouragingly and Snow reluctantly leaves the cottage.

When Emma turns around, the woman is scrutinizing her, eyes narrowed. "What happened to you?"

"Let's not waste time talking about me. I want to hear your story." Emma sits down on the floor, making herself as unthreatening as possible.

The woman sits back down in her chair and continues to glare at her suspiciously. Then her attitude visibly changes, her shoulders slump a little and she sets her elbows on the table, putting her head in her hands.

"I wouldn't even know where to start."

"How about with something easy? What's your name?"

The woman gives her another one of her humourless smirks, which Emma is quite familiar with by now. "That's not as easy a question as you might think."

Emma feels like she should be getting annoyed with her lack of cooperation at this point, but she's actually just curious. She smiles at the woman a warmly. "Go on."

"My name is Pandora."

"As in Pandora's box?" Emma immediately knows that it was the wrong thing to say, as the woman's face falls and a split second later her anger returns. It turns into resignation in about the same time span.

"How would you like your name to be forever associated with your greatest failure?" Pandora sighs. "It's all my fault. It's easy to blame the Gods, but it was me alone who set the darkness upon the world."

"Greek mythology is real?'

Pandora smiles at her in a way that Emma now recognizes as patronizing. For a heartbeat, she can see Pandora's age shimmering behind her eyes and something else, something close to insanity. She might have been terrified, if she were capable of such an emotion at the present moment. As it is, she just wants to hear her story.

"Don't you get it, child? All the stories are real." She takes a deep breath. "There was a time when the world wasn't like this. When men and Gods lived together peacefully. When there was no darkness, no evil in the world. Then Prometheus stole the fire from Olympus and gave it to mortal men. And I came into the world and made a terrible mistake. One I've been trying to undo my whole life."

"There must be a better way than placing people under a spell."

"I've tried, believe me. I've had a very long time to come to the conclusion that people simply refuse to be happy. It's shocking, really, the length people go to to ensure their unhappiness. No, magic is the only way."

"What about free will?"

"Largely, an illusion. And an excuse to do terrible things. No, if you could only see that you're better off in the world as I made it, everything would be fine."

"I think I'm ill-prepared for a philosophical discussion with an immortal Greek."

Pandora makes a small huff of laughter. "Believe me, I'm quite mortal. But I'm not so thick-headed to not understand when I'm not wanted. You've all made that pretty clear."

"That's it? You're just going to leave us be?"

"This town is clearly beyond my help. And it's not like there aren't several realms out there where the situation is even worse than here." She stands up, and Emma follows suit. Pandora puts her hands on Emma's shoulders and looks at her intently. "Be unhappy if that's what you want. Just remember, always, that you have nobody but yourself to blame."

* * *

"So, what? You reasoned with her and now she's just going to leave?" Regina sounds sceptical as ever.

"I think she might have already left." Mary Margaret points to the cottage behind them. Regina and Emma turn around, but where the cottage had been, there is now only a picturesque forest clearing.

"Don't tell me that cottage was an illusion spell, too", Regina grumbles, clearly annoyed.

Mary Margaret's reply is amused. "Careful, your magic envy is showing."

Regina huffs. "Please. I could have blasted that woman with a fireball any time I wanted to."

Emma isn't following their conversation, deep in thought.

"Everything alright?" David's question draws her out of her reverie.

"I'm fine. I just have some thinking to do. Let's get back." She smiles at each of them in turn, then starts on the way back to town.

Regina stares after her. "I don't know about you, but I'm certainly glad this is over. I've got other things on my plate, you know."

"Let's get a move on, then", David replies.

"Please. Walking is for the magically challenged", with that Regina disappears in a cloud of purple smoke.

* * *

Some time later, Emma returns to the house, eager to talk to Killian. For once, she doesn't feel anxious about the state of things.

He's nowhere to be found in the house though and neither is Henry. Emma hears soft voices drifting towards her from the back porch. She walks to the window and spots Killian and Henry, sitting on the white bench on the back porch, talking. She can't make out the words, but it looks very much like they are having a heart to heart, both of them deeply engrossed in the conversation.

Henry says something she can't quite make out, but she can see the concern on his face. Killian puts his hand on the boy's shoulder, from his body language and expression she can tell that he's trying to reassure the boy. The sight stirs something in her, some longing she wasn't entirely aware of. There's something heart-warming about seeing the two of them together like this. 

She steps out on the back porch and both of them turn to her in unison, identical expressions of relief on their faces. Henry jumps up and embraces her. Emma hugs him back, smiling fondly at her son.

"You had us worried there for a bit, love." Killian remains seated, but she can literally see him breathe a sigh of relief, his tense posture relaxing a bit.

"No need. Piece of cake." She smiles at him, an open, honest smile, her eyes crinkling with merriment. Killian's eyebrows shoot up in confusion.

Henry pulls back, looking up at her expectantly. "What happened? Did you find her?"

"Yup. Found her, talked to her, asked her to leave and now she's gone for good."

Killian's eyebrows move a little further up, his voice incredulous. "You solved this by _talking to her_?"

"What's with the surprise? Yes, we resolved this by talking about it, like adults."

Killian's eyes narrow and he regards her suspiciously. "Okay, who are you and what have you done to Emma?"

"Very funny." She ruffles up Henry's hair affectionately. "Talking is how conflicts are resolved, right, kid?" Henry nods in agreement as if this is the most obvious thing in the world.

Then he looks past her as if he suddenly remembered something. "I'm hungry", he states, then runs past her into the house.

"Don't run in the house" Killian yells after him, without thinking.

"Don't yell!", Henry yells back good-naturedly from the kitchen.

Both Emma and Killian have to smile. Their eyes meet and Emma sees the anxiety beneath the smile. Killian stands up and scratches a spot behind his right ear, clearing his throat nervously.

"Listen, Emma, I realize you want to get on the road as soon as possible, but maybe-"

Emma lifts up her hand, stopping him in his tracks.

"We need to talk. But not now."

Killian looks at her, surprised. "Seriously, love, are you feeling alright?"

She smiles at him, mischief in her eyes and Killian's heart skips a beat. Or maybe it stops entirely for all he knows.

"Never been better. But I don't think it would be fair to you, or us, if we talk before this thing wears off."

With that, she steps forward and gives him a hug. Killian jolts, taken completely by surprise by her move. Before he's really realized what's happening, she has already brushed past him, entering the house again.

Killian just stands there, blinking, for several moments. Then he shakes his head, trying to make sense of what just happened.

He follows her inside, feeling a little dazed. "Until what wears off? Emma, what's going on?"

She smiles at him again. She's smiled at him more in the last five minutes than the entire time after the curse ended. Now he's certain something is off about her.

"Nothing. I'm just happy, that's all."

Killian's jaw drops at the enormity of that statement coming from Emma. He smiles at her tentatively, not trusting this development one bit.

"Are you certain the caster did not put another spell on you? You're acting weird."

She steps in front of him, putting her hands on his shoulders, locking eyes with him.

"I'm fine. Trust me." She steps back, her tone turning light again. "Now, no more of this. I'm starving. Let's make some food."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a little anxious while writing this chapter. I know a lot of people hoped for/expected Ingrid, but I stuck with the "villain" I had in mind when I originally thought up this story. 
> 
> As always, thank you very much for your continuous support and kind feedback on this work!


	19. Chapter 19

Emma wakes up with a pounding headache and a bitter taste in her mouth. In the dizzy state of half-wakefulness she tries to remember how she got this hangover in the first place. She sits up and groans, one hand going to her temple.

She doesn't recall a night of partying or drinking. It must be an after-effect of that damnable spell. She feels exceedingly grumpy. This day is off to a bad start.

She gets out of bed and stubs her toe on the bedside table, cursing loudly. Why did she agree to be exposed to mind-altering magic in the first place? God knows what could have happened. Emma tries to recall all the things she said and did during the duration of the spell. She doesn't come up with anything mortifying, but some of the interactions she remembers make her cringe.

She makes her way down the stairs, hoping that some coffee will help to improve her sour mood.

She enters the kitchen area and immediately locks eyes with Killian sitting at the table. Crap. She is most definitely not up for this. He gives her a strange look, half-hopeful, half-resigned. It's the expression of a puppy hoping for a treat but expecting to get kicked, again. She's seen it many times on the faces of foster kids. She never expected herself to be the cause of it though.

She's very tempted to just turn around and get back into bed. Running is always the first option on her mind. She sighs and runs her hand through her hair. Why did she let it get to this point? She should have known better than to get this involved with somebody. These things always ended in heartbreak. Hadn't she learned her lesson?

 _Just remember, always, that you have nobody but yourself to blame._ Who did that woman think she was? She hadn't lived Emma's life, how dare she judge her like that? Making it sound as if everything was her fault, as if she had caused the troubles in her life. The _arrogance_ of that woman.

She chances another glance at Killian. He is giving her a slightly worried look now, probably waiting for her to say something, anything. 

What annoys her most of all is the seed of doubt that damnable woman planted in her mind. What if she really has a shot at something here and she's just too stubborn, too set in her ways to give it a chance? What if her efforts to protect her heart caused her to lock it away forever, unreachable for anybody or anything?

No, she can't give in to self-doubt like that. It's all just wishful thinking. He's a _pirate_ , for God's sake. The spell changed nothing. It only showed her what she can never have. They will go to New York and-

A strong hand lands on her shoulder, drawing her out of her tumbling thoughts and grounding her. She looks up and locks eyes with Killian. 

"Talk to me." His voice is soft, an invitation, not a command.

Emma has a epiphany. She always considered it a strength of hers, being independent, not relying on anybody else in her life. When actually it was the result of fear. Fear of rejection, fear of heartache, fear of letting go and entrusting her heart to somebody else.

It's time to be brave. She can do this. She's the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming. Fairy tales are real. Happy endings are real. She can do this.

She just stands there, paralysed with fear at the thought that she really is going to do this, that she is going to give this thing a chance, give this town a chance, stop running for once.

And she sees the shift in Killian's expression, watches him do that amazing thing that he does, where he just looks at her and reads her like an open book. Somehow, he knows the reason behind her sudden panic without her saying a single word. A smile appears on his face, not one of the flirtatious, cocky ones, which, to be fair, she hasn't seen in a while anyway. It's a shy, hopeful smile and it really transforms his face.

It makes her want to tell him that everything is going to be alright, that she made up her mind, that she's not going to run this time.

What she actually says is, "Um."

He looks at her and raises his eyebrows just a tiny fraction, cocking his head a little, giving her an encouraging smile saying _Go on, love, it's fine_.

Emma takes a deep breath. And realizes she has no idea how to do this. But that's never stopped her before and it's not going to stop her now. She feels heat crawling up her face and wonders if she's already turned a bright red colour.

"Um. I was thinking, you know, maybe we don't have to go back to New York immediately. Henry and I could stay here and spend some more time with our family." She's looking anywhere but at him at this point. "We could stay in this house." Beat. "With you." She takes another deep breath and looks up, afraid of what she's going to see. Maybe she read him wrong, maybe he doesn't want to do this after all and she put her heart on the line for nothing.

He's looking at her in wonder, mouth slightly agape, a dopey smile on his face. He doesn't say anything though and Emma gets even more nervous. "Only if you want to, of course, I understand you have other duties, a pirate ship to command, ships to plunder, villages to pillage-"

He moves his hand from her shoulder to her face and Emma stops short.

"I don't have a ship to command." Emma frowns. He's still smiling, but there's a hint of sadness in his features now. "I sold the Jolly Roger to buy a magic bean. So I could come to New York."

Emma looks at him in shock. "But- but that ship is your home."

His smile changes again into something different. Emma can't help but be fascinated by his wide array of smiles. Was all of this always there and she just didn't pay attention?

"This is my home now." He looks shy again. It's a good look on him, she decides. "If you want it to be, that is."

She wants to say yes. There's just one more thing she has to ask him first. 

"What about Gold?" His face falls and she regrets the words as soon as they're out of her mouth. But they have to talk about this sooner or later, might as well get it all over with now while she's feeling brave.

"Just a short while ago, I would have considered it a betrayal to Milah's memory to let the crocodile live. But I've come to the realization that this is not the kind of life she would have wanted for me. She would want me to be happy. She was a magnificent, fierce, independent woman. You would have liked her. I don't think she would have wanted me to spend the rest of my life trying to exact revenge. That would mean that the crocodile took both our lives that day."

"You know, you're quite wise." Emma grins at him, trying to lighten the heavy mood. "For a pirate."

The sadness that overshadowed his features when he spoke about his first love vanishes and his cocky grin makes a reappearance. "I try." He sighs, continuing, "You know, love, it is considered quite rude to answer a question with another question."

"Yes."

"Yes?" In spite of everything she just told him, he still sounds surprised.

"Yes, I want this to be _our_ home."

He smiles at her then and it's a beautiful, carefree smile, something she can't recall ever seeing outside of the spell. It's an even better look on him. It makes him look about a decade younger.

Emma grins. She's happy. Happy and nervous. She has no idea what to do now. "So. What now?"

Killian starts scratching that spot behind his ear, a clear sign that he's nervous as well. "To be honest, I never thought this far. It does seem like we skipped a few steps in the middle there, doesn't it?"

"How about we start over? Hi, I'm Emma. I have a son named Henry and I like cinnamon in my chocolate. Oh, and I'm the saviour."

Killian grins from ear to ear. "Hello there. I'm a devilishly handsome pirate. Name's Killian Jones. I hear my charms are irresistible." Emma punches him lightly in the arm. "Ouch. It's true. Ask anybody. It's like a-" He doesn't get any further because Emma leans up on her toes and kisses him. 

When she pulls back again, he's smiling smugly at her. "You do realize you just proved my point, right?"

Emma smacks him in the arm again for good measure, then moves away in search of coffee.

"We'll have to talk about this proclivity for violence some time, love."

"That's what you get for talking to me before I've had my morning coffee."

"Noted. I shall not make that mistake again."

They sit down at the table and there's an awkward silence, neither of them knowing what to say next. They are saved by the arrival of Henry, who looks from Emma to Killian, then back again, a frown on his face. Then he smiles, sits down and starts talking about what they'll be doing at school that day and why he really needs this new game that everybody else already has. And even though there is nothing special at all about the breakfast they have together that morning, it will forever after hold a special place in Emma's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All good things must come to an end. I did have some more things in mind, but I started working on other projects and decided to end this rather than risk leaving it unfinished. I'm quite happy with how it turned out, I hope you enjoyed it as well.


End file.
